


A Game Show Love Connection

by emphasisonem



Series: The Jeopardy 'verse [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Because I just want these dopes to be happy, F/F, Fluff, M/M, Mild Angst, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Shrunkyclunks, Slow Burn, So expect some serious rom-com vibes, This is a very soft story, cap!steve - Freeform, modern!Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-16 21:21:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 43,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11837283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emphasisonem/pseuds/emphasisonem
Summary: The last thingJeopardyproducer Bucky Barnes needs is some asshole who passed the online test pretending to be Captain America and wasting his time. The last thing he expects is for the guy on the phone to turn out to bethatSteve Rogers. There’s a popular expression that insists that stranger things have indeed happened, but Bucky’s pretty sure that this is the weirdest day of his life.In which Steve Rogers starts watchingJeopardyas a fun way to learn about the things he’s missed, gets selected through the online test, auditions for the show and surprises the hell out of everyone. Especially one James Buchanan Barnes.





	1. I’m That Steve Rogers (Or, the time Captain America auditioned for Jeopardy and Bucky thought it was prank)

**Author's Note:**

> I did it, guys. I did the thing. I wrote a story for the Bang!
> 
> First, I just want to thank my wonderful friend Talia, without whom this story would probably not exist. Not only did she think this ludicrous idea would make a great story, she encourage me every step of the way. Thank you, friend. Couldn't have done it without you.
> 
> Second, I hope you all enjoy this! It's a very soft little story, so I hope it makes you smile. Comments and kudos are always appreciated.
> 
> (This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.)

Bucky’s been a producer for _Jeopardy_ for going on five years now, an executive producer for the last two, and he’s had some very strange days in his tenure at the game show. But today? Today takes the fucking cake.

Bucky’s sitting at his desk going over some numbers when his phone begins to ring. He sighs heavily before taking the call on his ever-present headset, pinching the bridge of his nose at the sound of his nervous intern.

“Uh, Mr. Barnes?” the voice asks, hesitant as always. Bucky rolls his eyes. He doesn’t have the time or the patience to babysit today.

“Kid, I don’t know how many times I’ve told you that you can just call me Bucky,” Bucky says, unable to completely mask his irritation. “What kind of non-crisis you got for me this time?”

“Well, um,” Peter’s voice is uncertain, and Bucky leans back in his chair as he listens, praying that the kid will just tell him about whatever molehill he’s making into a mountain today and get it over with already. “I’ve got this potential contestant on the phone for the initial vetting process and it’s, um. It’s weird.”

“What’s weird?” Bucky snaps, pushing an errant lock of hair that’s fallen from his sloppy bun behind his ear. “Look, Peter, I’ve told you this a million times: If they sound too strange, you can just go through the standard questions and then email them that the producers haven’t selected them for the next stage in the process. It’s no big deal.”

“It’s not that,” Peter replies, his voice even and confident for the first time in the month or so that he’s been reporting to Bucky. “The guy seems fine. Pleasant, even. See, I thought he made a mistake typing out the date when he registered to take the test because there’s no way the guy’s almost a hundred. He sounds too young. But he keeps insisting that his birthday is July 4, 1918.”

Bucky exhales through his nose, annoyance shifting from his intern to the idiot on the phone wasting the kid’s time. “Did you happen to catch this practical joker’s name, Peter?”

“Of course,” Peter chirps. “He says his name is Steven Grant Rogers.”

Bucky’s trying to process the level of gall it would take for someone to impersonate Captain America when Peter asks, “What should I do?”

“Transfer the call,” Bucky replies, his voice taking on an edge that the majority of his coworkers know better than to argue with. “I’ll deal with it.” 

Bucky pauses, waiting for the click that signifies the transfer before speaking in his most professional voice. 

“Bucky Barnes, ABC Network’s _Jeopardy_ ,” he says. “To whom am I speaking?”

“Afternoon, Bucky Barnes,” a deep, amused voice answers him, and Bucky has to admit that Peter was right. The guy _does_ sound pleasant. Sexy, even. Bucky shakes his head, willing the thought away. The guy’s impersonating a war hero and an Avenger for Christ’s sake. 

The man on the line continues, “I’m Steve Rogers. Pleasure to be talking with you.”

“You as well, Mr. Rogers,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes to keep the sarcasm bubbling just below the surface out of his tone.

“Please, call me Steve,” the man replies, and Bucky laughs politely, trying not to grind his teeth. 

Because as pleasant as this guy sounds, he’s still wasting Bucky’s time.

“All right, Steve,” Bucky says, “I’m an executive producer here at _Jeopardy_ , and one of my interns called me because it seems we’ve got a bit of an issue. See, it looks like you might have made a mistake with your birth year when you were filling out the information for the selection test. Maybe flipped a couple of the digits?”

“Oh, no,” Steve says, and Bucky swears he can _hear_ the grin in this asshole’s voice. “It’s correct.”

“Really?” Bucky asks, trying to keep any bite out of his voice just yet. “You didn’t mean to type in 1981?”

“Nope,” Steve chirps, and Bucky kind of wishes the guy was standing here in his office so that he could take a swing. “My birthday’s July 4, 1918. I’m _that_ Steve Rogers.” 

Bucky sighs, slumping over his desk. The idiot’s committed to the prank, Bucky’ll give him that much.

“You know what, pal?” Bucky exhales, massaging his temples. “I _really_ don’t have time for this shit, but my Skype username is jbbarnes0310. You wanna be on the show? You give me a call there and prove you’re _that Steve Rogers_.”

Bucky ends the call, then lets out a groan and allows his head to rest against the cool, dark wood of his desk. He starts when he hears a tentative knock on his door. 

“Come in,” Bucky calls, lifting his head slightly to see who’s walking through the threshold.

“H-hey, Mr. Barn- Bucky,” Peter stammers with a small smile. “Take care of that problem?”

Bucky snorts, letting his head fall back to his desk as Peter drops into one of the chairs before him.

“Yeah, I took care of it, Parker,” Bucky replies. “Honestly, pretending to be Captain fucking America. Some people, huh?”

“It is pretty ridiculous,” Peter replies with a soft chuckle. “I mean, the real Steve Rogers _has_ to have better things to do than audition to be on _Jeopardy_ , right?”

Bucky barks out a laugh as he looks up at his intern, shaking his head. 

“You’d think so,” Bucky says. “The man’s out saving the world every other week for god’s sake. Anyway, I doubt we’ll have any more trouble with our practical joker. I told him he’d have to call me through Skype if he really wanted to-”

Bucky’d be amused at the way Peter’s eyes widen as the Skype tone indicating he has a video call begins to play if he weren’t so fucking surprised himself. Bucky looks up at the screen, stunned by the caller’s username - _StarSpangledMan_. The avatar’s a photo of Steve Rogers, and it looks casual enough to be an actual candid.

Jesus Christ, Bucky knows people less committed to careers and significant others than this guy is to his asinine joke. 

“Peter,” Bucky’s voice is low and controlled, but he can feel his left eye twitching as he addresses the intern. “If you could please excuse me while I take this call?”

Peter nods solemnly before booking it out of the office. Bucky can’t say as he blames him.

“All right, pal,” Bucky begins after clicking to answer the call, dragging his eyes up to glare at the dick who’s making this day much more annoying than it needs to be. “I have had just about enough of your bullsh-”

Bucky’s voice dies in his throat because holy shit, _it is that Steve Rogers._

Bucky’s breath catches a little at the sight before him, partly because he’s surprised, but also because Steve Rogers is maybe the most stunning man he’s ever seen.

“Hey, Bucky,” Steve waves at him, blue eyes bright as he smiles, and Jesus Christ this is the weirdest fucking day of Bucky’s life. 

“Well,” Bucky croaks as he runs a hand across his face, not bothering to hide his bewilderment as he gazes at the Adonis on his computer screen. “I suppose I owe you an apology, Captain.”

* * *

 

Steve’s in the middle of briefing the team on an upcoming mission when his cell begins to vibrate against the table. His brow furrows as he looks down at the screen. It’s a number he doesn’t recognize from Culver City, California. 

Natasha’s sitting beside him, craning her neck to get a better glimpse of Steve’s phone, and she glances up at him with a grin once she gets a look at the location from which the call is coming. 

“Better answer that, Steve,” Nat says. “I think Culver City is where they film _Jeopardy_.”

Steve’s eyes widen as he picks up the phone, just staring at it for a moment before sliding his thumb across the screen to answer the call. 

“Wait a minute,” Tony hisses, careful to keep his voice low so that Steve can carry on a conversation. 

“Hello, this is Steve,” Steve answers, listening to a young man introduce himself as Peter Parker, an intern at the studio where they film _Jeopardy_ , while trying not to laugh at Tony’s shocked expression.

“You actually took the test?” Tony continues in a fierce whisper, huffing as Steve nods. “Why didn’t you tell _all of us?”_

Steve just shrugs, his grin wide as Peter congratulates him on being selected as a potential contestant and asks him if he has a few minutes to go over his information and answer a couple of quick questions so that Peter can get the approval process started. 

“Sure, I have a few minutes, Peter,”Steve replies, biting down on his lip to keep a chuckle at bay as Tony drops his head to the table with an indignant, “Are you fucking _kidding me_ right now?”

Steve glances around at the rest of the team as Peter rattles off Steve’s full name and date of birth. Natasha and Sam are all smiles, which is no surprise since they were the ones who got him into _Jeopardy_ in the first place. Clint is shaking with silent laughter as he watches Tony bang his head lightly against the table.

“Mr. Rogers, is this birth date correct?” Peter asks, and Steve shakes his head, resolving to pay closer attention to Peter for the duration of their conversation. “Because you, uh, you don’t really sound that old, sir.”

Steve huffs out a soft laugh. “Yes, Peter, that’s when I was born. And you can call me Steve.”

“Sure, Steve,” Peter says, sounding a little unsure. “And it’s really 1918? You didn’t make a mistake typing it in?”

“Nope,” Steve replies. “1918 is the correct year.”

“So, um,” Peter continues, voice climbing in pitch with each word spoken. “Steven Grant Rogers, born July 4, 1918? That would make you, um, that would make you-”

“Captain America,” Steve finishes the sentence for the kid since he doesn’t seem to be able to believe who he’s talking to. Steve guesses he’d probably feel the same if he were in Peter’s position right now.

“Could you, um,” Peter stammers, and Steve can hear the kid shuffling papers over the line. “C-could you please hold for a moment, Mr. Rog- Steve?”

“Sure thing, Peter,” Steve replies, unable to keep a grin from his face. The _Jeopardy_ theme begins to play and Steve figures he has a second to address his team while he’s on hold, setting the phone to speaker as he waits. 

“So, it looks like I might be a contestant on _Jeopardy_ ,” Steve says, laughing as Sam and Nat whoop loudly and Clint applauds. “Although, that’s assuming they don’t think this is some kind of elaborate prank. Kid on the phone’s having trouble believing it’s actually me.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us all that you were taking the test, Rogers,” Tony grumbles, but he’s smiling now. “The whole point of this _Jeopardy_ thing was for us to help with your transition into this century and you didn’t even let us offer you some moral support?”

Steve shakes his head with a smirk, and then asks, “Would you believe I was nervous about it and didn’t want everyone to know if I failed?”

Tony runs his hands through his thick, dark hair, tugging gently on the strands. “Steve, you’re a super soldier and a war hero who survived 70 years on ice and who helps this team literally save the world on a regular basis, and _you thought somebody in this room would think less of you if you didn’t make it onto Jeopardy?”_

“Well, it sounds silly when you put it that way, doesn’t it?”Steve says, pausing as the music stops. “Hang on a sec, I think I’m about to be off hold.”

“Bucky Barnes, ABC Network’s _Jeopardy_ ,” a deeper voice comes through Steve’s speaker, and Steve guesses Peter must have gotten a supervisor involved. “To whom am I speaking?”

Steve wonders if this guy looks as good as he sounds because his slightly raspy voice has Steve fighting off a shudder. He hopes that if he manages to get onto the game show that he’ll get to meet this man in person to find out. 

“Afternoon, Bucky Barnes,” Steve answers. “I’m Steve Rogers. Pleasure to be talking with you.”

“You as well, Mr. Rogers,” Bucky says, and Steve grins at the forced politeness he hears in Bucky’s tone. Clearly he thinks Steve’s some asshole pretending to be Captain America for a laugh. 

“Please, call me Steve,” he tells Bucky, pressing a finger to his lips as Sam snickers off to his left. If anybody breaks into full-on laughter, Steve will switch the call off speaker, but he figures his team’ll get a kick out of this.

Bucky proceeds to tell Steve that he’s an excutive producer at _Jeopard_ y and that it looks like Steve might have made a mistake and switched a couple of digits around in his birth year. Steve smiles as he assures the man that no mistake was made. 

“Really?” Bucky asks, and Steve can tell the other man is equal parts surprised and annoyed, but he’s doing a damn good job of trying to keep it in check. “You didn’t mean to type in 1981?”

“Nope,” Steve replies. “My birthday’s July 4, 1918. I’m _that_ Steve Rogers.” 

There’s a pause, and Steve has a feeling that Bucky’s patience must have run out. Hell, Steve gets it. If he were on the other end of this phone call, he’d probably think this was some sort of stupid joke too. 

“You know what, pal?” Bucky sighs. “I _really_ don’t have time for this shit, but my Skype username is jbbarnes0310. You wanna be on the show? You give me a call there and prove you’re _that Steve Rogers_.”

Steve barks out a laugh once he realizes the call’s ended, then looks up at his friends. 

“So which one of you wants to teach me how to use Skype?” he asks, and Tony snorts. 

“I started setting up an account for you as soon as he mentioned it,” Tony says, tapping away at his laptop for a moment before sliding it toward Steve. “I took the liberty of coming up with a really great username for you and everything.”

Steve looks down to see his photo beside the moniker _StarSpangledMan_ and chuckles as he runs a hand through his hair. “You’re a shit, Tony.”

“Back atcha, Rogers,” Tony replies with a smirk. “Now call the producer back and get your ass on that show so we can all tell Fury we need to take a couple days off to support our fearless leader.” 

Steve shakes his head and types in the username Bucky gave him, tapping his fingers impatiently against the table as he waits. 

“All right, pal,” Bucky answers the call a few moments later, and Steve’s heart begins to beat a little faster as big, blue-gray eyes snap up to meet his. “I have had just about enough of your bullsh-”

And Steve is absolutely _floored_ by this gorgeous man who’s staring at him as though he’s got six heads. The last time he felt this blindsided, it was because of another beautiful person with dark hair, a sharp, direct gaze, and a no-nonsense attitude. 

_Fuck_ , Steve thinks. _I am in big trouble here._

Somehow, Steve manages to keep his head, smiling and waving at the other man, though he’s unable to hold back a chuckle as Bucky begins to apologize.

* * *

 

Steve laughs at what must be an absolutely thunderstruck look on Bucky’s face, and Bucky wonders how much nicer it would sound in person as it floats through his laptop’s speakers. 

“No need for an apology,” Steve smiles, batting his long, dark eyelashes in a way that seems almost flirtatious. But that can’t be, Bucky thinks. 

“This is nothin’, really,” Steve continues. “You shoulda seen what I had to go through in terms of paperwork when they first pulled me outta the ice.”

“I, uh,” Bucky says with a grin, surprised by the Steve’s easy-going nature. “I cannot even begin to imagine. The DMV’s bad enough under normal circumstances.”

There’s a brief pause, and then Bucky clears his throat and says, “Well, uh, since you called me, I guess you and I better go through the preliminary vetting phase. Although, I gotta be honest, Rogers, if you really want to be on the show, I doubt a single person involved with it will even attempt to stop you.”

“Oh?” Steve asks, tilting his head to the side in a way that reminds Bucky of a golden retriever puppy. “And why is that?”

It’s unfair, Bucky muses, for a grown-ass man to be so goddamn cute.

“Well,” Bucky pauses for a moment to give himself a fighting chance of recovering from this adorable display of curiosity, “You’re kind of a big deal, you know? I can’t begin to imagine the kind of ratings we might expect if you agreed to participate.”

Bucky’s pretty sure he hears soft snickers in the background at that and wonders who else is in the room with Steve.

“Using me for my fame,” Steve sighs, throwing his hands into the air, but Bucky sees nothing except amusement when Steve’s beautiful eyes meet his again. 

Bucky has to bite his lip to keep his laughter from bubbling up and out of him, and is it just his imagination or are Steve’s eyes now trained squarely on his mouth?

_Definitely just your imagination,_ Bucky thinks as Steve’s gaze drifts back up to his own. _And even if it isn’t, do not be an idiot about this, Barnes. He’s Captain fucking America and you’re an overworked slob of a producer who hasn’t eaten a vegetable in three days. Just because he came out as bi on Ellen last year doesn’t mean he’s flirting with you._

“Can you blame me, Captain?” Bucky teases, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “Part of my job is to make sure people are watching the show. Now, you ready to finish going over the information you provided us and answer a couple of questions, or have you decided to take your notoriety over to the clowns at _Wheel of Fortune_?”

“And sully my reputation?” Steve mock-gasps, a hand clutching at his impressive chest. “How dare you, sir.”

Bucky laughs as Steve continues, “But would it be all right if I took a rain check? I’m briefing my team at the moment.”

Bucky jerks back in his chair because apparently the hushed giggles he’d heard earlier were the _other fucking Avengers._

“Uh,” Bucky nods as he speaks. “Yeah, Steve, that’s fine. You can just, um, call me back on this if you want. Or I could give you my cell. You know, in case I’m not in my office for whatever reason.”

“Sam, can I borrow your pen and your notebook real quick,” Steve asks as he glances away from the screen, turning his attention back to Bucky a moment later. “Ok, go ahead and give me your cell.”

Bucky recites his number and hangs up after a quick goodbye, a hysterical bray of laughter leaving him as he drops his head into his hands. 

“Bucky?” 

Bucky looks up and sees Peter peering sheepishly through his door. He motions the kid into the room, then pulls open the bottom left drawer of his desk and removes a bottle of Glenfiddich.

“I need a drink,” Bucky says with a tired smile as he sets the booze down. “You wanna join me so I don’t feel like a fuckin’ degenerate knockin’ one back at two in the afternoon?”

* * *

 

“All right,” Steve says about an hour after the Skype call, his gaze sweeping the other Avengers. “Now that we’ve got that squared away, I’ve got a phone call to make.”

Tony snickers as Clint smirks and asks, “What, no speakerphone or Skype with the team so we can listen to you try to flirt?”

Steve can feel a flush rise to his cheeks as he huffs out a laugh.

“I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about, Barton,” Steve says.

Sam leans back in his chair, arms crossed as he glances over at Natasha. The two of them smile knowingly, and Steve would kind of like to smack them both upside the head.

“You were,” Sam begins.

“Definitely flirting with him before,” Natasha finishes with that sly smirk of hers, and Steve curses his fair skin for betraying his embarrassment. 

It’s not like the team isn’t aware that Steve’s bisexual– hell, they’ve been nothing but supportive–but he’s always been a little shy when it comes to romance.

“Do you think he noticed?” Steve asks, rubbing the back of his neck. “God, I didn’t make a total fool of myself, did I?”

“Rogers,” Tony rolls his eyes. “Even if the guy is straight– unlikely, since he was _definitely_ flirting too– I doubt he’d be anything but flattered considering you’re Captain America.”

Steve barks out a laugh as he heads for the door of the conference room where they hold their meetings. 

“Just because your ego is roughly the size of Australia doesn’t mean everybody’s is, Stark.”

“You wound me, Captain,” Tony sighs, pretending to swoon. 

Steve shakes his head as he exits the room, the sound of his team’s laughter following him. 

Steve fidgets as he rides the elevator up to his apartment in Avengers Tower, his mind focused on the cell in his back pocket. He breathes deeply, reminding himself that he’s just calling Bucky back to go over some information. No big deal. 

Still, his heart is in his throat as he dials and waits. Bucky picks up after the first ring, which makes Steve absurdly happy. He does his best to tamp his excitement down, but there’s nothing for it.

“Bucky Barnes,” Bucky answers, and for a moment, Steve considers just hanging up the phone and giving up on the whole _Jeopardy_ thing. What if his audition is terrible and the producers don’t think he’s good enough to be on the show?What if he bombs during the actual competition? It wouldn’t have been a big deal if he was just Steve Rogers, but he hasn’t been _just Steve Rogers_ since 1943. 

“Hello?” Bucky asks. “Anybody there? Can you hear me?”

_Ah, fuck it_ , Steve thinks. He’s got a life outside the ice now; he might as well live it.

“Hey, Bucky,” Steve says. “It’s Steve Rogers again. Now an okay time to go over my information?”

“Steve, hey!” Bucky exclaims, his voice so warm that Steve feels a bit light-headed. “Glad you called. Yeah, let’s do this so we can schedule an actual audition for you. I mentioned you passing the test to a couple of the higher-ups, and they’re dying to get you on the show.”

Steve chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “And you?”

Steve winces a little at his overtly playful tone, but he’s rewarded with a laugh from Bucky. 

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to meeting Captain America and getting him on the show,” Bucky replies. “And not just because it’ll be a fucking bonanza for ratings.”

Steve heads to the kitchen to grab a beer and asks, “That so, Barnes? Not just after me for my notoriety, then?”

“Well, as I mentioned earlier, it certainly doesn’t hurt,” Bucky teases, and Steve snorts a little at that as he twists the cap off a bottle and leans against his kitchen counter. “But I can’t deny that meeting a living legend is a cool prospect. Now, why don’t we go over your information quick so I can let you get back to protecting the world?”

Steve agrees and Bucky reads off all of the information Steve had provided when he’d signed up to take the test. It doesn’t take long, and Steve’s almost wishing there was more so that the two of them could continue talking. 

“All right, that wraps that up,” Bucky says, and Steve can hear the faint clicking of a keyboard on Bucky’s end. “Now, I’m going to send you a form where you provide five anecdotes that we can use during filming. You know, the bit after the first commercial break where Trebek asks everybody about some goofy story they have?”

“I’m familiar, yeah,” Steve replies. “You need an email address?”

“Please,” Bucky replies, then, much to Steve’s amusement, stammers out, “Unless, uh, unless you don’t have an email? I mean, I can- I can fax it. Or mail it. Whatever’s easiest for you.”

“Bucky,” Steve laughs. “I’ve been living in the twenty-first century for a while now. Adapting’s been the name of the game.”

“God, I’m such an idiot,” Bucky huffs. “I’m so sorry; of course you've had to adjust to all the new shit. I didn’t mean to insult you or anything, Steve.”

“No need to apologize, Bucky,” Steve says as moves away from the counter and heads toward his living room. “It was actually very thoughtful of you not to assume I had an email address given my situation.”

Steve settles onto his couch and puts his feet up on the coffee table, crossing his legs as Bucky’s nervous chuckle floats through his phone.

“Well, I’m glad you see it that way,” Bucky says, and Steve wonders if maybe he’s biting his lip the way he’d done on their Skype call earlier. Just thinking about Bucky’s teeth sinking into that plump bottom lip of his has Steve a little hot under the collar.

“Steve?” 

“Yeah?” Steve shakes himself a little to refocus on Bucky.

“Could you, uh, give me your email address, then?” Bucky asks, and Steve’s glad Bucky’s 3,000 miles or so away and that he can’t see the blush blooming on Steve’s cheeks.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Steve says, reciting his email and listening to Bucky type it out. It hits Steve again that he’s really doing this. He’s really going to fly out to California and audition for a game show and put himself out there for the world to see in a non-life-threatening situation. 

It’s both terrifying and exhilarating, and it’s been a while since Steve’s felt this alive without staring down some sort of imminent threat.

That, Steve thinks, is probably something that should concern him more than it does.

* * *

 

“Well, Steve,” Bucky begins, leaning back in his chair, his eyes flicking over the information on his computer screen. “I’m glad we took care of that, and I’d like to apologize again for my rudeness earlier this afternoon.”

There’s a beat before Steve replies, and Bucky hears a soft swallow on the other end. Bucky grins as he pictures Steve sprawled out on a couch just relaxing at home. 

“Thank you, Bucky, but really, I get it,” Steve replies. “I’d’ve probably reacted the same way if I were in your shoes.”

There’s another moment of silence as Bucky contemplates what he’s about to say next. He doesn’t want to pry, but he’s _so curious…_

“Can I, uh,” Bucky hesitates for a second, and then presses on. “Can I ask you somethin’, Steve?”

“Shoot,” Steve answers.

“How the hell did a guy like you get so into _Jeopardy_ that you actually took the test to be on the show?”

Steve laughs at that, and Bucky can hardly blame him.

“Well, my friends Sam and Natasha got me into watching the show,” Steve explains. “They thought it would be kind of a fun way for me to start catching up on some of the stuff I’ve missed. More engaging than just scrolling through endless news stories and Wikipedia articles.”

“Yeah, I guess I could see that,” Bucky replies. “Uh, when you say Sam and Natasha, do you mean, uh, Falcon and Black Widow?”

“Yup, that’s them,” Steve replies, matter-of-fact as can be. 

Bucky lets that sink in, trying to wrap his head around the fact that there are apparently superheroes who watch _Jeopardy_ in their downtime as Steve continues.

“Well, after a couple of weeks of watching, Tony-”

_“Tony Stark?”_ Bucky bleats.

“The one and only,” Steve replies and Bucky can practically hear the other man’s eye roll. “Tony told me that you guys had a website with practice tests, so I started doing those from time to time just to see how much I was picking up from the show and my own research. And after a couple of months, I was doing a pretty solid job of remembering a lot of the stuff I’d learned. So, when the real selection tests were announced, I figured what the hell?”

“Well, I’m glad you figured that way,” Bucky says. “And I’m glad the show was able to help you get your bearings and learn about some of the things you’d missed. You know, I love this job, but sometimes it feels like sort of a silly way to earn a living. It’s good to know that the show actually matters to somebody.”

“Yeah, it’s been a really big help,” Steve says, and Bucky can hear something of a catch in the other man’s voice. This is clearly a sensitive subject for Steve, so Bucky decides it’s probably best to let him get back to his evening. 

“Well, Mr. Rogers, I won’t keep you any longer,” Bucky says. “Thank you again for your time and your patience. We look forward to receiving your anecdotes and scheduling a time for you to come out to the studio. Have a nice night.”

“You as well, Mr. Barnes,” Steve teases, and Bucky can’t stop the snicker that slips from his mouth. He pauses for a moment, debating what he’s about to say, and then decides to just go for it. 

“And Steve?” Bucky says. “If, uh, if you ever need anybody to talk to, you know, just a friend or whatever, feel free to call this number any time. I obviously can’t really understand what you’ve been through, but I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener.”

“Thank you, Bucky,” Steve answers, his voice warm and a little bit choked. “I’ll keep that in mind. Good night, and I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Good night, Steve,” Bucky answers, then disconnects the call. 

Bucky lets his head drop back against his chair, inhales deeply, and prays he won’t make a complete and utter fool of himself when he meets Steve Rogers in person. 


	2. A Glimpse of Steve Rogers (Or, the fearless leader isn’t quite as impervious to self-doubt as you’d think)

Rebecca Barnes is sitting at an outdoor table and sipping water, tapping her nails impatiently against the wooden surface as she waits for her older brother to join her for lunch. When Bucky finally arrives, he’s panting and covered in a light sheen of sweat.

“Decide to run some laps before lunch, Buckaroo?” Becca smirks. 

Bucky laughs at the childhood nickname as Becca leans back in her chair to appraise him. Bucky looks good, if a little drawn. She chalks that up to his penchant for working long hours and his inability to sleep when something’s bothering him or exciting him.

And judging from the dark circles under his eyes, something definitely kept him tossing and turning last night.

Bucky drops into the chair across from Becca and runs a hand through his unruly hair, smoothing the strands into something manageable before pulling it all back with a hair tie.

It’s unfair, Becca thinks as Bucky ties off a messy bun, that her brother has better hair than she does.

“I’m sorry, traffic was a bitch as usual and trying to find parking was awful,” Bucky replies. “This city is a fucking nightmare.”

Becca rolls her eyes and smirks. “I’ve heard your ‘LA sucks’ rant about a million times, dear brother, so spare me. Now what’s up? You text me that you have the weirdest day of all time yesterday and then tell me zip about it? Spill.”

“I didn’t think you’d believe me unless you could see my expressions while I was telling you,” Bucky grins. “I’m still not sure you’ll believe me, but it’s the god’s honest, I swear.How about we order first, though? So that we’re less likely to be interrupted more than once or twice?”

Once their lunch orders are in, Becca can feel her eyes growing progressively wider as Bucky recounts the call he got from Peter, the chat with the “prankster” and the eventual Skype call that had proven that Captain America had indeed passed the online test and was interested in auditioning for _Jeopardy_.

“Holy shit, you get to meet Steve Rogers,” Becca breathes, the grilled chicken and vegetables she’d ordered growing cold. She couldn’t care less right now if she tried. “Is he as handsome as he looks on the news?”

“Handsomer,” Bucky sighs dreamily, and all of a sudden there’s a light blush coloring her brother’s cheeks.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” Becca warns, her voice low. “You’re holdin’ out on me somehow.”

The second Bucky’s cheeks begin to darken even further, Becca laughs. She knows _exactly_ how her big brother reacts when somebody flirts with him.

“Captain America put the moves on you, didn’t he?” Becca gasps, waggling her eyebrows suggestively and giggling as Bucky’s begins to fidget in his seat. 

“No,” Bucky replies hotly, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “No, he didn’t _put the moves on me_ , you weirdo. He just- I don’t know. He was probably just being polite, but he _did_ seem kind of flirty.”

Becca spears a piece of asparagus with her fork and chews thoughtfully for a moment. 

“Well, who can blame him?” Becca teases. “I mean, you’re a total catch, big brother. Stable job. Full head of hair. All your own teeth.”

Bucky glares at her as he takes a bite of the burger he ordered. 

“Thanks,” he replies dryly once he’s swallowed. “Really, what an incredible endorsement.”

“It’s my _job_ to give you a hard time, Buck,” Becca smiles. “Really, though, if he’s into you, you should go for it. I mean, how many people get a chance with Steve Rogers?”

Bucky shakes his head, and the grin on his face is wistful as he replies, “Can’t. Against the rules to get involved with the contestants, Becks.”

“Well, there’s an obvious solution there,” Becca says, rolling her eyes as Bucky stares at her blankly before she continues, “Wait until he loses and then ask him out. I mean, I’m sure Steve’s a smart guy, but he missed quite a lot of time after saving this country. How long could he possibly last?”

Bucky shrugs, and then stuffs a handful of fries into his mouth. Becca wrinkles her nose. 

“Did our mother teach you nothing about table manners?”

“She did,” Bucky answers. “But I don’t really care about impressing you. Sorry, sis.”

Becca sighs as she cuts a piece of chicken, asking, “You’re gonna make sure I get to see his audition, right? And his taping if he makes it?”

Bucky nods and smiles before taking a sip of his iced tea. 

“What kind of brother would I be if I didn’t?”

* * *

 

“We’re going shopping today,” Sam tells Steve as the two of them sit at the kitchen table sipping coffee a few days after the phone call from _Jeopardy_. “You, me and Tony.”

Steve quirks a brow, and Sam does his best not to laugh at their leader as he asks, “Why would we do that?”

Sam rolls his eyes as he takes a bite of a protein bar, chewing and swallowing quickly before answering.

“To get you a couple of decent outfits to wear on the show, duh,” Sam deadpans. “Don’t get me wrong, I can’t imagine you lookin’ bad in anything, but we gotta impress this new guy of yours.”

“He’s not-” Steve begins indignantly, blue eyes blazing before Sam cuts him off. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam waves his hand as he chuckles. “I got it, relax. You wanna look good on TV, though, right? And I’m sure you wouldn’t be _opposed_ to making a good first impression on that pretty boy, would you?”

“I guess not,” Steve mumbles around a forkful of eggs.

“Good, then let me and Tony help you look your best, all right?” Sam asks as he claps a hand to Steve’s shoulder, smiling gently. 

Steve sighs as he sets his fork down. 

“Fine,” Steve acquiesces. “But I’m counting on you to keep Stark on a tight leash. That guy might be willing to throw money around for anything and everything, but I’m not.”

“Stevie, you really need to let that Depression-era attitude go,” Tony snarks as he strolls into the kitchen to place a used mug into the sink. 

Tony’s arms and t-shirt are covered in oil and engine grease, and Sam wonders idly how long the older man’s been awake and working. 

“You have a gig that pays pretty damn well,” Tony continues. “You can shell out a little bit extra to look nice. And so help me God, I will buy you the clothes myself if you force my hand, and I know you hate it when I do shit like that.”

Sam bites back a laugh as Steve rolls his eyes and shoves another heaping forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth. 

“I’m gonna take a quick shower,” Tony tells them. “Be ready by 10:30, all right?”

Sam can’t contain a chuckle at the resigned and somewhat morose look on Steve’s face as he nods.

* * *

 

“This is too much,” Steve insists as Tony and a pretty silver-haired woman named Bonnie – who Steve guesses is probably somewhere in her mid-sixties - hand him hanger after hanger of expensive-looking clothing, eyes wide and pleading for help as he looks at Sam, who just grins and shrugs.

Some friend, Steve thinks.

“Steve, Bonnie’s the best salesperson at Barney’s and I trust her completely,” Tony tells him as he gestures to the woman. “We have no idea how long you’re going to end up staying in California and on _Jeopardy_ , so you’re going to need plenty of decent clothes.”

Steve huffs as Tony shoves a pair of dress pants at him. He considers dropping them to the floor, but that wouldn’t be at all fair to Bonnie who has been nothing but pleasant and helpful from the moment the three of them walked through the door.

“It’s just an audition, Tony,” Steve reminds him. “We have no idea that I’m going to end up on the show.”

Sam barks out a laugh, leaning against a doorframe as he watches Tony rifle through a rack of blazers. 

“Steve, come on,” Sam says. “You’re Captain America. You’re going to be on _Jeopardy_ ; there’s no way they’re gonna turn you down, and you know it.”

“Besides,” Bonnie interjects with a warm smile as she looks up at Steve. “There’s no reason a man as handsome as you shouldn’t have clothes as nice as these. Cashmere sweaters were _made_ for shoulders like yours. They don’t make many men like you anymore, dear.”

“Well, dad only ever made one of him,” Tony mutters with a roll of his eyes, and Steve chuckles a little at that. “Thank _god_.”

Bonnie shakes her head and smiles, then motions for the three of them to follow her into a private dressing area. 

“I can’t believe you made me do this,” Steve whispers to Sam as they trail Bonnie and Tony, who are chatting animatedly. “This is ridiculous. I don’t _need_ any of this stuff.”

“Steve,” Sam replies evenly, voice low. “Tony wanted to show that he supports you. You know the man can’t just say it like a normal person, so this is his way of doing that. Just let him pick out a couple of outfits; it’s not like you couldn’t use some new threads.”

Steve’s eyes narrow and his lips thin as he shoots a sidelong glance at Sam.

“What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“Nothin’, man,” Sam chuckles, clapping Steve on the shoulder. “Just humor us and go with a little upgrade, all right?”

Steve nods, knowing the choice is pretty much out of his hands at his point. Besides, he thinks as Bonnie hangs up all the clothes he’s about to try on, Tony _does_ have decent taste. 

Not that Steve would ever admit that to Tony. He’d never hear the end of it. 

* * *

 

“You know,” Tony drawls with a grin as Steve checks himself out in the mirror of the private dressing area they’re occupying. “You _are_ allowed to admit that you’re having fun picking out clothes and that you enjoy looking nice, Cap. You don’t have to scowl the whole shopping trip.”

Sam snickers off to Tony’s left as Steve glares at Tony via the mirror, then heaves an exasperated sigh.

“These are nice clothes aren’t they?” Steve asks, and Tony swears he can see a hint of a smile at the corner of Steve’s lips as he glances down at the navy cashmere sweater and charcoal slacks that he’s currently wearing. “I’m not used to fabric this soft outside of workout gear and t-shirts.”

Tony grins and leans back in his chair, sipping at the coffee Bonnie had brought them once they’d made some selections.

“That’s because you need to spend some money for the quality stuff, Cap,” Tony replies. “It won’t kill you, I promise.”

“Hah hah,” Steve drones, tugging at the hem of the sweater and glancing over at Sam as he asks, “What do you think?”

“I think Bucky won’t know what hit him,” Sam smiles. “You should definitely buy it. And you should get the darker jeans and the blue blazer Tony picked out. The jacket brings out your eyes. You’ll have America swooning in no time.”

Tony nods, adding, “Buy those jeans in a lighter wash and grab a couple more sweaters too. We’ll get some button ups to go with them for that hot high school teacher kind of look.”

Steve’s blushing at the compliments – Tony and Sam generally don’t go out of their way to point out just how attractive their friend is – but Tony can tell Steve’s really fighting back a smile now as he answers, “All right, if you guys say so.”

“How are you gentlemen doing so far?” Bonnie sashays back into the room with a grin and a fresh pot of coffee. Her eyes widen as she takes in the sight of Steve, as does her smile. 

“You look like a million bucks, Captain,” Bonnie tells Steve, and Tony didn’t think it was possible but Steve’s actually getting redder. “God bless America.”

Steve glares daggers when he and Sam burst into laughter, but Tony can’t bring himself to care. Besides, Steve can’t help but smile after another moment as he rolls his eyes at the two of them.

Steve might be a little bit embarrassed at the attention, but he’s also happy, and that’s not a look they get to see on Cap all that much. 

Tony’s got to admit, it’s a nice change of pace. 

Bonnie brings a few more things for Steve to try on at Tony’s insistence, including a navy suit (“You never know, Rogers,” Tony harps with a smirk), and once they’ve got what Tony thinks is a reasonable amount of appropriate clothing for Steve’s trip, Bonnie guides the three of them to the register.

“Just put it on my tab, Bon,” Tony winks. “You know I’m good for it.”

“Tony,” Steve warns, voice low in that way that might intimidate some people but just kind of amuses the hell out of Tony. 

“It’s a gift, Cap,” Tony shrugs as he signs the bill Bonnie presents. “I honestly can’t believe you thought I wasn’t going to buy these clothes for you. I mean, how could I possibly pass up the opportunity to see that look on your face? You’re too much.”

Steve clearly can’t decide between smacking Tony and laughing at him, so he settles for another one of those put-upon sighs of his and simply says, “Thank you, Tony.”

* * *

 

Bucky receives an email about a week after his call with Steve that just about sets his head spinning. 

He should have known Captain America would have some wild anecdotes. 

Bucky goes to forward the message to the appropriate department, then thinks better of it and pulls out his phone to text Steve. 

_Thanks for the anecdotes email. How soon should I be expecting members of America’s intelligence community to contact me about information of a classified nature?_

Bucky can’t help grinning when his phone begins to vibrate with a call from Steve.

“That was fast,” Bucky answers.

“I cannot believe,” Steve huffs in what Bucky assumes is faux annoyance, “That you could entertain the idea that Captain America is divulging state secrets. I’ll have you know that I’m a paragon of justice and honesty and virtue, sir.”

There’s a brief moment of silence between them before they both burst into laughter. 

“Golly, Cap, didn’t mean to offend you,” Bucky teases once he’s composed himself. “But, seriously, am I gonna get a call from the NSA or the CIA or something? Because these stories of yours are, uh, pretty detailed.”

Steve chuckles softly, replying, “I cleared it with a couple of people, I promise. You’re not gonna get in trouble, Buck.”

Bucky can feel his skin begin to prickle with heat at the casual way Steve’s shortened his name, as though they’ve been friends for years already. Bucky has zero problem with this. 

“I just figured people would be the most curious about me fighting in the war, so I went with a few of the stories I’d be most comfortable telling,” Steve continues, and Bucky feels his heart break just a little bit at that. 

Steve hasn’t selected these stories because they’re funny or because they have some kind of special meaning to him. They might, Bucky thinks, but that’s not the _reason_ they were chosen.

They were chosen because they’re what Steve thinks people want most to hear.

“Do me a favor, Rogers,” Bucky replies. “Replace one of your war stories with one happy story from your life before or after the war, all right? Gives us a little bit of variety.”

“My life before the war was pretty boring, Bucky,” Steve chuckles. “Don’t think anybody’d be all that interested in hearin’ about it.”

Bucky smiles as he answers Steve, “Well, I know I would be, and I bet other people’d like to get a glimpse of Steve Rogers instead of Captain America. Not that Cap’s not great, but I’ve got a pretty good feeling about Steve.”

The silence over the line is deafening, and for a moment, Bucky thinks maybe he’s said the wrong thing or gone too far. 

Then Steve’s voice comes over the phone, soft and warm, “Thanks, Buck. I, uh, I appreciate you sayin’ that.”

“Meant it,” Bucky says quickly, trying to ignore the heat rushing to his face. “I, uh, I’ve got a meeting in ten, Steve, so I gotta go, but-”

“No worries,” Steve interrupts, and Bucky can hear the other man’s beautiful smile loud and clear. “I’ll send you that new story just as soon as I can. Bye, Buck.”

“Bye, Steve.”

When Bucky gets out of his meeting an hour and a half later, there’s an email about a Dodgers game that Steve attended with his mother in 1933. _It was my birthday gift_ , Steve has written. _I was fifteen._ _We both ate too many hot dogs and drank too much pop. The Dodgers won 3-2 in extra innings. There were fireworks after the game. It was the best birthday I ever had._

Bucky swallows past the lump in his throat as he types out a quick thank you email.

* * *

 

Steve can’t remember the last time he was this antsy. It’s been a few weeks since the initial phone call from the _Jeopardy studio_ and he’s flying out to California tomorrow for his audition.

Steve’s tried pretty much everything he can think of to calm his mind and body. Sparring with Nat. Jogging with Sam. Going untold rounds with several punching bags in the gym. A hot shower. And still, the adrenaline courses through his body. 

“Get it together,” Steve mutters as he paces his living room in loose sweats and a hoodie, running a hand through his still-damp hair. “You’ve been in active war zones for Christ’s sake. _You_ _fought Nazis._ This is fine. _You’re fine.”_

He is not fine.

Steve actually jumps a little as his phone begins to ring, an all-too familiar song that he most certainly did not set as his tone. 

_“Who will redeem, heed the call for America? Who’ll, rise or fall, give his all for America?”_

“God damn it, Tony,” Steve sighs, picking up his phone and smiling when he sees Bucky’s name flashing across the screen.

_“Who’s here to prove that we can? The Star Spangled Man with a pla-”_

“You have no idea,” Steve says once he’s answered the call, “How good it is to have a chance to speak with someone sane today.”

Bucky’s laugh floats through the speaker, and Steve settles onto his couch with a grin. 

“I don’t know if I’d go right to sane, but I can see how I might seem that way to somebody like you,” Bucky replies. “How you doing, Steve? You ready for your audition?”

Steve huffs out an anxious chuckle. “You know, I thought I was until today, and now I’m kind of freaking out.”

There’s a pause before Bucky asks softly, “You wanna talk about it?”

Steve sighs, a hand combing through his mussed hair again as he tries to figure out how to explain the anxiety percolating in his chest. 

“I’m not _that_ worried about the audition,” Steve begins. “I mean, yeah, I wanna be on the show and it’ll be embarrassing if I fuck up. But if I get on the show and then blow it in front of what you’ve led me to believe will be a big audience- I just. I don’t want to disappoint anybody.”

“Steve,” Bucky says gently. “I know it’s nerve-wracking. Believe me, I’ve seen a lot of cool customers crack under the pressure. But you took down a number of Hydra bases pretty much single-handedly during the war. You current gig is fighting supervillains and aliens and all kinds of crazy shit. I think you can handle a game show, pal.”

“Reading up on me before I get out, there, huh?” Steve asks, liking the amused snicker his comment elicits.

“I had American history just like every other high school student in this country, Rogers, and you’re always prominently featured,” Bucky replies. “I also watch the news regularly. And yeah, maybe I boned up on your past a little bit before you fly out here. Part of my job.”

Steve’s busy trying to figure out if Bucky meant for ‘boned up’ to sound like an innuendo when Bucky’s voice draws him from his thoughts. 

“Really, Steve, you’ll be great,” Bucky says. “Just remember to have fun. That’s kind of the whole point.”

“Fun,” Steve sighs. “Kinda forgot what that feels like.”

There’s a lengthy pause, and Steve mentally kicks himself for being the most melodramatic downer to ever walk the face of the earth.

“That’s a damn shame, Rogers,” Bucky finally says. “And I intend to rectify that for as long as you’re out here.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve laughs at the other man’s self-satisfied tone. “And how do you plan on doing that?”

“I’ve got some ideas,” Bucky replies vaguely. Steve laughs at that, his shoulders finally beginning to relax.

“Do me a favor?” Steve asks. “Talk to me for a while? Not about _Jeopardy_ or about how I featured in your history classes. About normal stuff. Your family, your friends. What you do for fun.”

Bucky does. Bucky tells him about his sister Becca and his coworkers and the places in and around Burbank (which is where Bucky lives, apparently) that he likes best. He tells Steve about the maddening traffic he has to sit through whenever he wants to visit Becca or go to work. He talks about the best place for Chinese food in his neighborhood and the book he’s reading this week.

Bucky talks until Steve’s eyes droop shut and his breathing deepens and evens out.

So, Steve misses it when Bucky whispers, “Night, Cap. Can’t wait to meet you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://emphasisonem.tumblr.com/)!


	3. Where Have All the Gentlemen Gone? (Or, the Jeopardy gang meets Captain America)

One of the nicest things about knowing Tony Stark is that Steve gets to ride in a private jet to California. Not that he’d mind flying a commercial airline, but it’s great not to have to worry about being recognized on the flight. Steve’s a little nervous as it is, and he doesn’t really need the added pressure. 

The flight attendants are all beautiful, leggy women who lavish Steve with attention, but the only thing he can think about is how much nicer Bucky’s stormy eyes are going to look when they’re finally face-to-face.

Steve wonders what it will be like to share space with Bucky, to feel the skin of the other man’s palm against his own when they shake hands for the first time, how different his voice will sound in person. 

When Steve disembarks the plane after a couple of hours, there’s a sleek, black sedan waiting to pick him up on the runway. The driver smiles and opens the door for him, and Steve thanks the man before crouching to slide inside. 

“Hey, Mr. Rogers!”

Steve starts at the voice, but there’s something familiar about it. He looks up and sitting in the backseat is a willowy young man with brown hair and a finely drawn face. 

“Peter Parker, sir,” he introduces himself with a smile as he extends his hand. Steve takes it, surprised by the strength of Peter’s grip. “We spoke on the phone a while back. It’s cool if you don’t remember; I’m sure I’d be easy to forget.”

“Not at all, Peter,” Steve grins as he releases Peter’s hand. “How could I forget the intern who didn’t believe I was me? Provided my team with a lot of humor at my expense, although that’s pretty par for the course.”

Peter smiles sheepishly and shrugs. “Yeah, sorry about that. Just never really thought Captain America would be into something like _Jeopardy_.”

The two of them chat amicably on the way to the studio. It’s easy to keep Peter talking once he’s going, Steve finds. A few well-timed questions and Peter’s chatting about the courses he’ll be taking at UCLA in the fall and his girlfriend Gwen for the duration of the ride. 

“Oh, geez, I’m sorry,” Peter apologizes as they pull up to what Steve assumes is the studio. It’s a sleek-looking building with a minimalist air. “I, uh, tend to kinda overdo it with the talking sometimes. But, hey, we’re here!”

Steve chuckles as he climbs out of the car and waits for Peter before striding up the walkway and walking through the pristine glass doors.

“Not at all, Peter, I was the one asking all the questions,” Steve replies as the two of them stroll past the reception desk and down a hallway. Peter tells him they’re heading to one of the green rooms where potential contestants wait. 

There’s a lot of activity in the hallway, Steve thinks as he watches casually dressed employees dart past. Their eyes almost always widen slightly as they catch a glimpse of Steve, but they never stare.

Steve wonders if maybe someone gave them instructions not to, or if they’re all just polite.

“Ok, Mr. Rog- Steve,” Peter corrects himself with a chuckle. “Somebody will be in to do makeup for you shortly, though I doubt you’ll need the usual amount. There’s water and soda in the fridge and some snacks in the cupboard beside it.”

Steve nods as Peter reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out two business cards. 

“Please don’t hesitate to call or text me if you need anything or have questions today,” Peter tells him. “And Mr. Barnes asked me to give you his card as well so that you have his office extension.”

Steve grins down at Peter and reaches out to shake the young man’s hand again. 

“Thank you, Peter,” Steve says. “Whenever I have a chance to speak with Mr. Barnes, I’ll be sure to tell him what a great intern he’s got.”

Peter’s skin pinks up at the compliment as he stammers out his thanks and then leaves the room. Steve chuckles softly as he pulls out his cell and types out a text to Bucky. 

_Your intern is quite possibly the nicest and most talkative kid I’ve ever met._

Steve wanders over to the fridge and pulls out a bottle of water, gulping half of it down greedily before checking out the snack cupboard. He’s not really hungry since he ate on the plane, but he snags a bag of Goldfish anyway as his phone chimes with a new message from Bucky. 

_I don’t know what you said to him, but he just got back up here and he can’t put together a sentence that makes a lick of sense. Me and one of the other producers will be down in a bit to chat; try not to turn his brain into mush, ok? We have jobs to do, you know ;)_

Steve tries and fails to ignore the warmth blooming in his chest at the thought of finally meeting Bucky Barnes face to face.

* * *

 

Bucky is going to die of embarrassment. 

He’s mercifully calm and cool on the outside despite being a complete disaster on the inside as Steve’s large, warm hand grips his own in a powerful handshake. Bucky wonders how those hands would feel elsewhere for a moment before shoving that thought to the back of his mind and resolving to act like the professional he is. 

Yes, Bucky’s keeping his shit together pretty damn well in spite of the fact that Steve is easily the best looking man he's ever seen. His blue eyes are brighter in person, his flaxen is hair shinier, and his skin is so flawless that Bucky wonders why they’re even bothering with makeup. But the best part by far is Steve’s smile, which sets Bucky's heart racing a mile a minute. But he's got this under control. 

The same cannot be said for his friend and senior _Jeopardy_ producer Scott Lang. 

“Wow,” Scott breathes as he steps forward and extends his hand. “C-Captain America. Scott Lang, great to meet you.”

“Mr. Lang,” Steve says with a grin as the two men shake. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Please, call me Scott,” Scott replies, not ending the handshake. “It’s an honor, sir.”

_For the love of god, Scott,_ Bucky thinks as he pinches the bridge of his nose. _Get a hold of yourself._

“Well, then, feel free to call me Steve,” Steve says. “Bucky already does.”

When Bucky looks up, Steve’s eyes are locked on him and dancing with amusement. Bucky’s stomach does a somersault and he wonders if maybe he ought to take his internal advice to Scott more seriously and get ahold of himself.

“I’m shaking your hand too long,” Scott grins, still not letting go of Steve.

_Yes!_ Bucky screams internally. _You are! Stop!_

“This is awesome,” Scott gushes, _finally_ dropping Steve’s hand, stepping back, and turning to smile at Bucky. “Captain America!”

“Yes,” Bucky sighs, unable to bite back a reluctant smile. “He is.”

Scott turns his attention back to Steve, unable to contain his awe as he looks up at the blond. Bucky kind of can’t blame him; Steve is beyond impressive in person. 

Of course, this fact doesn’t make it any less excruciating when Scott leans forward and presses the tips of his fingers against Steve’s sizable pectoral muscles and mutters, “Geez” in a tone bordering on reverential. 

Yup, Bucky thinks. They might as well start digging his grave right fucking now because this is how he goes out. Embarrassed to death by the likes of Scott fucking Lang. 

“Well, I just wanted to meet you quick; Bucky’s the one who’s going to run you through the audition process. Good luck! I mean, not that you’ll need it, really, but-”

“Thank you, Scott,” Bucky interrupts with a pointed look at his colleague. “I’ll take it from here.”

“Sure, sure,” Scott replies, completely ignoring the fact that Bucky’s glaring at him and that Steve’s barely keeping his amusement in check. “See you guys later.”

Bucky closes his eyes and breathes deeply before meeting Steve’s gaze again. 

“Words cannot begin to express how sorry I am for my coworker,” he says, and grins as Steve finally loses it and starts laughing. 

Turns out Bucky was right; that sound _is_ even better in person. 

* * *

 

Steve can’t keep from chuckling when Bucky apologizes for his colleague. Sure, Steve can definitely see how their meeting would be embarrassing for the other man, but it’s hardly the most unusual reaction he’s gotten since reintegrating into society. And anyway, it’s certainly not _Bucky’s_ fault. 

People are quite a bit bolder now than they were back in the ‘40s, but Steve kind of loves that openness, that willingness people have to put themselves out there. 

“Don’t even worry about it, Buck,” Steve reassures Bucky as he sits down and gestures for Bucky to do the same. “I, uh, get that kind of thing a lot. Usually it’s weirder.”

“I’m sure you do and that it is,” Bucky sighs as he settles beside Steve on the couch and runs a hand through his dark hair. 

Steve’s never seen Bucky’s hair loose before today; he’d had it tied back the one and only time they’d Skyped. Steve wonders what it would be like to run his fingers through the soft looking strands, to grip them and pull Bucky close.

“But Scott’s supposed to be, you know, a professional,” Bucky continues with a rueful grin. “Hardly appropriate for him to essentially feel up a contestant less than 20 minutes after said contestant enters the studio.”

Steve shakes his head and arches a brow, smiling as he says, “You’re right; he should have waited _at least_ 30 minutes. Where have all the gentlemen gone?”

Bucky barks out a laugh at that, and Steve’s absurdly pleased that he’s managed to amuse the other man. Being the cause of the lopsided smile Bucky shoots his way has Steve just a little bit breathless.

“You’re askin’ the wrong guy, Rogers,” Bucky says. “I’ve been lookin’ for a gentleman for a while now, and they seem sort of few and far between these days. Especially if you’re anywhere _near_ Los Angeles.”

Steve admires the light blush gracing Bucky’s features, liking the way it somehow softens his sharp cheekbones. Before he can stop himself, Steve reaches out and places a hand on Bucky’s knee, then squeezes gently. 

“I’m sure that a guy as good as you will find one eventually, Buck,” Steve says, and he can feel his own face warming as Bucky’s wide gray-blue eyes meet his.

“Yeah,” Bucky murmurs, never breaking their gaze. “Yeah, maybe I will.”

The silence between them hangs thick and tense, and for one crazy moment Steve seriously considers leaning forward and pressing his lips to Bucky’s. Bucky has a beautiful mouth, Steve thinks, and he’d like nothing more than to find out what it feels like against his own.

But then Bucky’s springing upward and shoving his hands into his pockets and Steve’s lapse into temporary insanity is over. 

“I’m, uh, gonna check and see how much longer we’ll need to wait for makeup to get in here,” Bucky explains as the flush on his handsome face darkens, and Steve regrets the forwardness of his last statement and the heavy moment they’d just shared. 

Because apparently those things made Bucky uncomfortable if the way he darts out of the room is anything to go by. 

“Fuck,” Steve mumbles, dropping his head into his hands and exhaling harshly. “How am I still so terrible at this?”

* * *

 

Bucky shuts the door behind him with a sound snap, moving slightly to his left and leaning against the wall beside the frame. 

Bucky _should_ go find somebody from makeup considering they’ve probably only got less than an hour now before auditions start, but he’s not really sure how steady on his feet he is at the moment. So he tips his head back and he breathes.

Inhale through the nose, two, three, four. Pause. Exhale through the mouth, two, three, four. Repeat as needed until heartbeat has slowed. 

Bucky nearly jumps out of his skin as he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“All right, boss man?” 

Bucky exhales a shaky laugh as Wanda Maximoff smirks up at him. The junior producer’s face suggests that she already knows the answer.

“Not really, no,” Bucky replies anyway. 

There aren’t many people at work Bucky with whom he feels comfortable enough to be completely honest, but Wanda’s calm demeanor, no-nonsense attitude and quiet kindness had impressed him so immensely when she’d interned for the show that he’d offered her a full-time job upon her graduation just a month after she’d started the internship. As Bucky’d gotten to know the young woman, he’d found himself making an honest-to-god friend.

And when Wanda had started dating Becca about a year into her full-time employment with _Jeopardy_ , that was that. She was family as far as Bucky was concerned. 

“Hey,” Wanda speaks gently as she squeezes Bucky’s shoulder. “You can do this. He’s just a person like anybody else. Except hotter.”

Bucky snorts and grins down at Wanda. “A _lot_ hotter.”

“Come on now, Barnes,” Wanda teases as she releases her grip on Bucky and folds her arms across her chest. “You’re a calm, cool and collected professional. Besides, it’s not like you’re any slouch in the looks department.”

Bucky shakes his head as he pushes himself off of the wall.

“Do me a quick favor?” Bucky asks, waiting for Wanda to nod. “Just hang with him for a few minutes? I gotta see where we are with makeup for everybody, and you’re a pretty soothing presence. Besides, you’re supposed to meet him before the audition anyway.”

Wanda’s brows are furrowed as she asks, “Does he need a soothing presence? Is he very nervous?”

“Not at the moment, but he was when I talked to him last night,” Bucky answers before realizing how that sounds. “I, uh, I was just calling him to make sure nothing came up and that he’d still be able to make it.”

“Mhmm,” Wanda hums with a smirk as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, silver rings glinting in the sunlight pouring through the windows. “Just checking to see he could make it, nothing more. Sure.”

“Wanda,” Bucky warns with an exasperated sigh. “It’s nothing.”

“No, I know,” Wanda replies, her tone too light and airy to be serious. “You just know he’s a big draw and you want to make sure he ends up on the show. Nothing to do with the fact that you’ve developed a bit of a crush on him.”

Bucky gapes at her, mouth opening and closing stupidly before he finally manages to choke out, “How do you-”

“Bucky, I’m dating your sister,” Wanda rolls her eyes. “You have no secrets from me. But your secrets _are_ safe with me, I promise. You’re my boss, yes, but you’re also my friend.”

Bucky close his eyes and breathes deeply for a moment before admitting, “All right, so I have a crush on the guy. It’s fine; we’ve had attractive contestants that I was completely professional around before. I can get through this without getting fired, right?”

Wanda giggles, punching Bucky’s upper arm lightly. 

“That’s the spirit, Barnes,” she replies. “Now go do what you have to do, and I’ll take care of our VIP for the time being.”

Bucky nods and begins to turn away from his coworker. 

“And Bucky?” Wanda adds. “I’m with Becca on this one. Just ask the guy out once he’s done playing the game.”

“I’m never telling Becca anything ever again,” Bucky groans and then sets off down the hall, Wanda’s throaty laugh echoing behind him.

* * *

 

“Hey, Bucky, I’m really sorry-” Steve starts trying to apologize the second he hears the door open, but his mouth snaps closed when he sees it’s not Bucky walking into the green room.

“Captain Rogers, from what I’ve heard, you’ve been here less than an hour,” a pretty young woman dressed in entirely in black is standing there smiling at him. “Someone of your character couldn’t possibly have done anything for which you need to apologize in such a short time, I’m sure.”

Steve chuckles, grateful when the woman doesn’t pry. 

“You must be another _Jeopardy_ employee,” Steve rises and extends his hand. “And you know who I am, so it seems I’m at a disadvantage.”

The woman laughs as she shakes Steve’s hand, introducing herself.

“Wanda Maximoff, junior producer. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Steve. Bucky’s my boss. He bumped into me in the hall and asked me to pop in and say hello since we hadn’t met yet.”

Steve gets the vague impression that Wanda’s not telling him the whole truth, but she’d been good enough not to snoop, so Steve’ll mind his own business. Or try to, at least.

“Well, it’s wonderful to meet you,” Steve grins. “You know, you’re the first person to call me Steve without me having to tell them that it’s ok?”

“Well, you are something of an imposing figure, Steve,” Wanda smirks as she gestures to the couch. “Why don’t we sit and chat until Bucky returns?”

Steve nods, grabbing a bottle of water and holding it out to Wanda who thanks him as she takes it. The two of them sit in a strangely comfortable silence before Wanda addresses Steve. 

“Are you excited for your audition?” she questions with a wry smile, crossing one leg over the other as she watches Steve attentively. The intensity of her gaze would be unnerving if she didn’t possess a pair of kind, smiling eyes, Steve thinks. She reminds him a little bit of Natasha in that way.

“Excited, nervous,” Steve exhales as he settles onto the couch. “I mean, I’m no stranger to high pressure situations, but this isn’t exactly somethin’ I’m used to, you know?”

Wanda nods,then says, “Well, I’m sure Bucky gave you the old ‘just be yourself and have fun’ spiel, and I’m sure it sounded cheesy, but honestly, that’s the best way to have a good time with this and get selected for the show. I have no doubt you’ll do wonderfully.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” Steve chuckles. “I’ll do my best and we’ll see what happens.”

Wanda smiles and opens her mouth to reply, but her phone begins to ring. 

“Do you mind if I take this?” 

“Of course not,” Steve replies, grinning when Wanda answers the phone with a, “Hello there, darling.”

Wanda casts a sidelong glance at Steve and chuckles, “As a matter of fact, I’m sitting with him right now. Oh? Hold on, I’ll ask.”

Wanda pulls her cell away from her face for a moment to ask, “Steve, would you mind terribly if my girlfriend popped in? She’s here for the audition today and she’s been hoping to meet you.”

Steve nods, listening with a smile as Wanda tells the woman on the other end of the call which green room they’re in. 

“All right, see you soon,” Wanda ends the call with a fond sigh. “I should apologize for Becca in advance. She’s very excitable. Plus, she’s heard so much about you over the last couple of weeks.”

“Oh?” Steve asks, pushing himself up off the couch to walk to the fridge and grab a bottle of water for this Becca he’s about to meet. “Man, you guys really take your jobs seriously if significant others hear all about me.”

“Well, that’s not really-” Wanda starts, but she’s interrupted by a knock at the door. “Better get that.”

Before Steve has a chance to do as Wanda’s suggested, the door bursts open, revealing a tall, dark-haired woman with a strikingly familiar pair of eyes and a lopsided smile.

“Oh my gosh, hi!” the woman cries, stepping forward and pulling Steve into a tight one-armed hug that throws him a bit off balance. “It’s so nice to get to meet you, Steve! I’m Becca, by the way. Gosh, I feel like I know you already.”

“Really?” Steve questions, his brow furrowed as Becca steps back and beams up at him. “Does Wanda talk about potential contestants that much?”

Becca laughs, a high, clear sound, and Christ but he knows that grin. Why can’t he place it?

“No, no, not from Wanda,” Becca replies. “I mean, not that she hasn’t mentioned the possibility of you being on the show, but I’ve heard way more about you from Bucky.”

Steve tries to school his expression into something neutral, but judging from the way Becca’s eyes are dancing with amusement and the smirk on Wanda’s face, he hasn’t done such a great job masking his surprise.

“You know Bucky?” 

“Well, I oughta,” Becca giggles. “He’s my big brother.”

And suddenly, the familiarity of those eyes and her smile clicks into place. Bucky’s sister Becca. Who apparently knows all about Steve because Bucky talks about him so much.

Steve can’t help smiling and pulling Becca back in for another quick hug.

* * *

 

“Oh, _Jesus_ ,” Bucky blanches as he hears a woman’s laugh he recognizes all too well from halfway down the hall. He’d been told that the makeup artist handling Steve would be along in about ten minutes, but now he’s praying it’ll be sooner. 

Because no good can come of his baby sister being around Steve Rogers. 

Bucky takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself before walking into the green room. Sure enough, there’s Becca wearing a shit-eating grin and Wanda trying to look as innocent as possible.

“What a pleasant surprise,” Bucky grins, trying to subtly communicate to Wanda via a glance that they’re going to have a very serious conversation about this at some point. “I see you’ve met Wanda and my little sister. Wanda, makeup should be here shortly, so why don’t you take Becca out to her seat, ok?”

Becca shakes her head, a mischievous grin lighting up her features.

“Not before I invite Steve out to grab a bite with all of us after the audition,” Becca insists.

Bucky sighs, running a hand through his hair as he says, “Beck, I’m sure Steve has much better things to do than grab dinner with two game show producers and a graphic designer.”

“Actually,” Steve interjects. “Dinner would be great. I’m not real familiar with the west coast, and I’ve been looking forward to getting to talk to you in person. And, really, the more new friends I get to make, the merrier.”

Bucky stands, gaping at Steve as his sister bounces on the balls of her feet. 

“Then it’s settled,” Becca states. “Don’t worry, Buck, Wanda and I will pick a great place, take care of the reservation and all that good stuff, ok?”

Bucky doesn’t even have time to reply before Wanda takes Becca’s hand and drags her from the room, shooting an apologetic grin Bucky’s way before wishing Steve luck. 

“So,” Bucky croaks out. “That’s Becca, and I guess I should now just offer a blanket apology for the rest of the day and also this evening.”

Steve chuckles, steering Bucky toward the couch and gently pushing down on Bucky’s shoulder until he sits before settling beside him. 

“No need, Buck,” Steve replies. “Wanda and Becca both seem very nice, and I’m really looking forward to dinner. I think we’ll all have a really good time.”

Bucky huffs out a laugh before meeting Steve’s eyes. 

“Well, I sure hope so,” Bucky quips. “Wouldn’t want to make a bad first impression on Captain America.”

The smile that graces Steve’s features then is so beautifully tender that it just about takes Bucky’s breath away. 

“I don’t think you could if you tried, Buck.”

It’s a miracle that the makeup artist chooses that moment to walk in because Bucky was contemplating doing something phenomenally stupid, like leaning over and kissing that smile right off Steve’s face. 

And that would not be professional at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Come freak out about Steve and Bucky with me on [tumblr](http://emphasisonem.tumblr.com/)!


	4. I Can’t (Or, Bucky has to explain to Steve that he isn’t allowed to get involved with a contestant, no matter how much he might want to)

“Steve, you were so great!” 

Steve grins as Becca throws her hands up and then pulls him into a tight hug. And as Bucky and Wanda laugh and nod along with Becca’s assessment, Steve can’t help but agree.

Sure, he missed a couple of questions, mainly because of his nerves. Steve was standing there on the _Jeopardy_ set for goodness sake. At his own podium right across from the board and _Alex Trebek_ , and oh, god, _why did he think he could do this?_

But then he’d seen Bucky standing by one of the camera operators, holding up a piece of poster board.

The sign’s neat block lettering had simply said, _Relax, Rogers. You got this._

Steve hadn’t missed too many questions after that, but more importantly, Steve had smiled. Steve had been polite, charming, and funny. Steve had put on the show that the _Jeopardy_ staff was looking for. 

The moment he sees Bucky’s smiling face, Steve knows he’ll be coming back to Culver City. 

“You fucking killed it,” Bucky chuckles, clapping a hand to Steve’s shoulder and squeezing lightly. “Seriously, that was incredible and the camera absolutely loves you. My supervisors are so excited they’re actually planning on rescheduling some things to get you filming the show as soon as possible. Two, three weeks tops as long as that works for you.”

Steve’s head is spinning a little at the timeframe, but he nods anyway. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt this happy, so he’s certainly not going to argue.

“Let’s get some food, then, yeah?” Wanda says as she grabs Becca’s hand. “I’m starving and we’ve clearly got something wonderful to celebrate. Steve, do you drink? We ought to order some champagne when we get to the restaurant.”

Steve can’t help smiling as he follows Wanda and Becca, Bucky falling into step beside him. For the first time, Steve wonders if maybe the two women have orchestrated this dinner to feel a little bit like a double date.

Not that he’d _mind_ that.

“Well, I can’t really get drunk,” Steve explains. “The serum and all that. But I think champagne would be very appropriate, yes.”

“Perfect,” Becca replies. “I’ll call ahead and make sure there’s a bottle chilling. Bucky, Steve can ride over with you, can’t he? I know taking Wanda’s car would be easier, but we’ll probably head right home from the restaurant, and-”

“Yeah, Beck, that’s fine,” Bucky chuckles, rolling his eyes when he glances at Steve. “Just gotta take care of one or two little things before I leave. We’ll meet you there, all right?”

Becca reminds Bucky of the restaurant they’d selected, and then she and Wanda are off, and Steve and Bucky are walking up to Bucky’s office so that he can send a few emails. 

“Your sister is something else,” Steve says as they enter the room, liking the gentle laugh his comment teases from Bucky. “She _really_ likes hugs, huh?”

“Yeah, Beck’s a very physically affectionate person,” Bucky answers as he sits down at his desk, fingers moving immediately to his keyboard. “I mean, I guess we both are, but it usually takes me a little longer to warm up enough to hug somebody.”

Steve wonders how long he might have to wait for a hug from Bucky. He hopes not very.

The two of them sit quietly, Bucky typing up his emails and Steve pretending to play with his phone as he surreptitiously watches Bucky. The other man’s focus is intense and strangely endearing Steve thinks. Although, that might be because Bucky tongue pokes out from between his lips as he concentrates on wrapping up his work. 

Steve finds this utterly adorable. 

After about five minutes, Bucky’s rising from his chair and tying his hair up in a quick messy bun before grabbing the leather jacket that’s slung across the back of his chair. 

“All right, Rogers,” Bucky grins as he slips into the garment, and yeah, that’s going to be a real problem for Steve. “Let’s get you fed.”

The two of them amble down the hallway to the elevator, and then out of the building and into the fading sunlight. 

“So, which car’s yours?” Steve asks, bringing a hand to his face to shield his eyes from the awkward angle of the light. Bucky snorts and shakes his head. 

“Shit, I forgot to mention it didn’t I?” Bucky asks as he motions for Steve to follow him. 

It takes Steve a moment to realize that Bucky’s headed toward a vintage Harley sitting in a spot across from the main entrance, its red paint gleaming bright. It’s one of the most beautiful bikes that Steve’s ever seen.

“Are you kidding me?” Steve exclaims, unable to hide his excitement. Bucky looks back over his shoulder, his grin wide as he tosses a helmet to Steve.

“Pretty, ain’t she?” Bucky asks, laughing as Steve nods emphatically. “You gonna be all right riding to the restaurant on this baby, old timer?”

Steve’s eyes narrow at the challenge, and he strides forward, standing just a little too close to Bucky as a slow smile spreads across his lips. Steve likes the way Bucky’s eyes widen, the way his breathing starts to quicken.

“Yeah, Buck, I think I’ll be able to handle it,” Steve murmurs, letting his fingers brush against the back of Bucky’s hand before he walks over to the bike. “Now, quit making fun of your elders and let’s go get some dinner.”

Bucky just stands there for a moment, a slightly dazed expression on his handsome face, and yeah, Steve’s maybe a little bit proud of himself for the affect he appears to be having on the brunet. 

“Yes, sir,” Bucky grins, and oh, Steve _really_ likes that. 

They both clamber onto the bike, and Bucky revs her up, and then speeds off toward the restaurant. And if Steve’s gripping Bucky just a little tighter than necessary? Well, Bucky doesn’t seem to mind. 

* * *

 

“You ok?” Bucky asks Steve as the two of them sit at the table nursing a couple of beers once dinner’s been cleared. 

They’d ended up at Smoke House Restaurant in Burbank, since Becca’d been adamant that the drive would be worth it. Steve, she had insisted, would probably love the retro feel of the steakhouse. 

The wide grin that had lit up Steve’s face the moment they walked through the door and he’d seen the old-fashioned red booths, wood paneling and the photos of Old Hollywood celebrities had proved her absolutely correct. 

The four of them had had a wonderful time so far, chatting and laughing like old friends as they’d enjoyed their meal.

Steve turns to Bucky now with a soft smile, and shit, Bucky should probably stop drinking after this beer if he doesn’t want to do anything stupid tonight. 

Besides, he’s already promised to drive Steve back to his hotel since Wanda’s heading into the studio extra early tomorrow morning so that she can cut out a few hours early. Steve had insisted he could just get a cab back, but Bucky wouldn’t hear a word of it. 

It has nothing to do with the fact that he wants to feel Steve’s strong arms wrapped around him again.

“Yeah, they’re just really cute,” Steve replies, and Bucky can hear a hint of sadness in his voice. His gaze follows Steve’s to the dance floor where Becca and Wanda are swaying to some soft, slow music. 

“They are,” Bucky sighs before taking a sip of his beer. “They got lucky finding each other so young. I give it another year, tops, before one of them proposes. I’m betting it’ll be a hell of a lot sooner.”

“How old are they?” Steve asks, turning his full attention to Bucky.

“Becca just turned twenty-seven and Wanda’s twenty-six,” Bucky replies. “It was a little strange when they first started dating, you know, since Wanda’s one of my employees. But she’s been great for Beck. I hope I find somebody who makes me half as happy someday.”

“I’m sure you will,” Steve says, blue eyes full of fondness. “You’re young yet.”

“Not _that_ young anymore,” Bucky huffs out a laugh. “I’m thirty-two. And you say that like you’re so old, Steve.”

“Compared to you, I am,” Steve laughs. “I don’t look it, but I’m technically almost a hundred now. And you have to remember that the last time I was kind of dating somebody, it was 1945 and there was a war on. Little bit different back then, you whipper snapper.”

Bucky groans out a laugh and scrubs a hand across his face. 

“You’re so corny,” Bucky teases, rolling his eyes. “I mean, I know I’m not _old_ , and it’s not like I’m in some huge hurry to settle down with some guy. But like I said, it’s kind of hard to find good ones out here.”

“You’re a good looking guy, Buck,” Steve says, and yeah, Bucky’s going to file the fact that Captain America finds him attractive away so that he can properly freak out about it later. 

“And you’re nice,” Steve continues. “You’re funny and you’re understanding and you’re caring. You clearly work hard and you’re passionate. Whoever you end up with, he’ll be lucky to have you.”

Steve’s fingers are brushing against Bucky’s now and he’s leaning forward and holy _shit_ , it looks like Steve is maybe probably about to kiss him.

And, for once, Becca’s absolutely horrendous timing is a godsend as she stumbles back to the table, giggling as she nearly loses her balance trying to pull out her chair. 

“Oh, no, you’re not sitting back down,” Wanda laughs, gently grabbing Becca’s arm. “You and I are going home and I’m putting you to bed.”

Becca whines, but lets Wanda tug her upright, and the two of them say their goodbyes, Becca hugging Steve tightly and telling him how great it was to get to meet him. 

“Behave,” Wanda calls over her shoulder as she and Becca walk toward the door. She winks, and then they’re gone. 

Bucky clears his throat and then says, “Well, I guess that’s my cue to get you back to your hotel, huh?”

Bucky signals to the server for their check. The server then politely informs Bucky that the bill has already been paid. 

Bucky turns to Steve and finds a sheepish smile gracing the blond’s handsome features as he shrugs. 

“You guys were nice enough to include me tonight,” Steve explains. “Felt appropriate to return the favor.”

Bucky shakes his head as he stands, acutely aware of the fact that this feels distinctly like a date and that he’s going to have Steve plastered to his back for at least the next half hour. 

“The whole point was to make _you_ feel welcome, but thank you, Steve.”

* * *

 

“You know,” Steve says as Bucky kills the bike’s engine. “Tony recommended this place to me. Says they’ve got a bar with great cocktails and jazz. You, uh, you wanna come have a drink with me?”

Bucky slides off his helmet, and Steve notes the uncertainty in the other man’s stormy eyes.

“I’d love to, but I should really get going,” Bucky replies, biting his lip as he stares down at the pavement. Steve thinks for a moment about just letting Bucky go, but decides to push it a little bit.

“You didn’t have any champagne at the restaurant, only had one beer,” Steve teases. “One drink won’t kill you. Besides, didn’t anybody ever tell you you’re supposed to humor old war vets at bars?”

Bucky throws his head back on a laugh and Steve’s eyes are drawn immediately to his neck, thoughts of pressing his mouth against the smooth skin overwhelming him. He shakes it off before Bucky notices.

“Well, when you put it like that, I guess one drink would be all right.”

The two of them post up at the bar, greeting the bartender warmly when she sidles over to take their drink orders. 

“I will have an old-fashioned,” Steve says, then looks over at Bucky.

“Sounds perfect,” Bucky grins. “One of those for me, too.”

The two men sit, nursing their drinks and just talking for the better part of an hour. They talk about how Bucky loves his job but eventually wants out of the Los Angeles area. They laugh again about Scott’s reaction to Steve. They chat about the art classes that Steve’s started taking at a community center in Manhattan. 

Steve’s hasn’t connected so seamlessly with another person since the war. Being around Bucky is effortless; it’s like the two of them have known each other for years and they’re just picking up where they left off since the last time they’d seen each other. That feeling has warmth curling low in Steve’s gut.

Steve spaces out thinking about the ease he feels around Bucky, and it must be pretty noticeable because Bucky taps him on the shoulder with a soft laugh. Steve shoots Bucky an apologetic smile once he’s shaken from his thoughts.

“Where’d you go?” Bucky asks, his cheek resting on his hand, and a gentle smile curling across his lips.

“S-sorry,” Steve stammers out with a chuckle. He can’t exactly tell Bucky what he’s been thinking without coming off like a total weirdo, so he lies, “Sometimes if I’ve been in a place that’s a little on the loud side for a while I kind of tune out.”

“Well, it’s getting late,” Bucky replies. “So I could head out, and you could go to bed if you’d like. Or we can find a quieter spot to chat. I’m good either way.”

Steve nods, draining the last of his drink before placing enough cash on the bar to cover their tab and a tip. Then, he stands and takes Bucky’s arm.

“Come on, then,” Steve says, summoning every ounce of courage that he has to make this decision. “Quieter it is.”

* * *

 

Bucky considers himself an observant man. He likes watching people, figuring them out, understanding what it is that makes them tick. 

And yet, it’s still a hell of a shock when Steve turns and pulls Bucky into a kiss once the door to his hotel room is closed. 

Steve’s lips are soft as they slide against Bucky’s and for a moment, Bucky melts into the embrace. It’s electric; Bucky’s nerves are singing as Steve’s arms wrap around his waist, and it feels like his insides are sparking up into a blaze as Steve’s tongue runs along his bottom lip. 

Bucky’s mouth opens on a groan and Steve surges forward, deepening the kiss and licking his way into Bucky’s mouth and it is _fucking fantastic._ Bucky’s drowning in the other man, hands fisted in the material of Steve’s shirt as he considers dropping to his knees here and now. 

_You shouldn’t be doing this._

Bucky stiffens as the little voice in his head speaks up, and Steve must feel it because he takes a step back immediately, concern evident in his expression.

“Shit, was that not ok?” Steve asks. “I thought- I mean, you seemed like you might be interested, so I-”

“Steve, hey,” Bucky soothes, taking Steve’s hands in his own and squeezing gently. “You’re all right, ok? You didn’t do anything wrong. Believe me, that was absolutely incredible; I was really enjoying it.”

Steve looks wary as he asks, “What made you stop enjoying it?”

“I didn’t stop,” Bucky says, sighing as he tucks a loose strand of his hair back behind his ear. “It’s not that I don’t want to kiss you, Steve. Because I do.”

Steve just stares, and Bucky takes a steadying breath as he explains.

“I can’t. I’m not allowed to be romantically involved with contestants. It’s against the rules, you know? It’s just not the most ethical thing for a producer to get intimate with a contestant. Looks bad.”

Steve is silent for a moment before he asks, “So you’re not angry with me?”

“Steve, the only thing I’m angry about is that I’m not allowed to kiss you, all right?” Bucky laughs. “You are unbelievably hot. You are kind. You are smart. You’re a goddamn superhero, Rogers. I’d have to be an idiot to turn down somebody like you in any other situation. But this is the one we’re in, and I could lose my job and you could get bumped from the show.”

Steve sighs, running a hand through his hair as he walks over to his bed and sits down. 

“I don’t really care about getting bumped,” Steve says. “I mean I _care_ , but it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Obviously, I don’t want you to lose your job-”

“Well, thank you, Steve,” Bucky jokes dryly, clamming up when Steve’s eyes narrow.

“But shit, Bucky, I really like you,” Steve continues. “You’re handsome as hell, you’ve been nothing but absolutely wonderful to me over the last month or so, and I just- I really want to know you.”

Bucky smiles as he sits down beside Steve, and it takes every ounce of his restraint not to push the other man back onto the bed and have some fun. The things he would do to that body…

“Steve, there’s no rule that says you and I can’t hang out as friends,” Bucky replies, trying to push thoughts of Steve flushed and writhing in pleasure out of his head. “You just can’t kiss me.”

“Easier said than done,” Steve grumbles. “Have you seen your lips?”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Rogers,” Bucky chuckles as he knocks their shoulders together. “And you’re not always going to be a _Jeopardy_ contestant, you know. I mean, you live 3,000 miles away, which is far, but I like you too. So how about we make a deal?”

Steve finally smiles at that. “I’m listening.”

Bucky knows what he’s about to do is risky. The idea that he’s going to be able to withstand a guy as tempting as Steve Rogers for any amount of time is absolutely ludicrous. But like hell is he going to miss this chance with a guy who is so far out of his league and yet somehow interested in him. 

“You kick ass for as long as you can on _Jeopardy_ ,” Bucky says. “And once your run as champion is over - because I _know_ you’re going to win the first couple matches at least, I can just _feel_ it - I’ll take you out on a real date. Until then, we hang out and get to know each other. See what happens.”

Steve’s grin has been widening with every word, and god, Bucky wants nothing more than to kiss him again, but he holds himself back. 

“I think that sounds like a great idea.”

Bucky nods, then stands up and heads toward the door, the soft sound of Steve’s footsteps on the carpet the only indication that the other man is following him. Bucky turns around, smiling at Steve as he places a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” Bucky says with a grin. “Do me a favor and text me when you get back to New York tomorrow, all right? I’ll be in touch soon with all the details of when you’ll actually be filming the show.”

Steve nods, shifting from one foot to the other before meeting Bucky’s eyes. 

“Sounds good,” Steve smiles, and it’s a little bit shaky. Bucky doesn’t like the uncertainty that he sees in Steve’s eyes at all.

So, Bucky leans in and kisses Steve gently.

“Something to remember me by,” Bucky breathes when he pulls back. “Since you’re not technically a contestant yet.”

Steve laughs and his smile reaches his eyes this time. 

“Thank you, Bucky,” Steve says. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Bye, Steve.”

Bucky turns and walks down the hallway. A moment later, he hears the snap of Steve’s door closing behind him and finally lets out the breath he’s been holding. 

Yeah, it’s a risk getting close to a contestant. But Bucky’s pretty sure he’s already fucked when it comes to Steve Rogers, so what the hell, right? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you're enjoying it so far! That's probably it for today, but you're welcome to come shout about these two with me on tumblr!


	5. I Kissed Him (Or, Steve and Bucky tell some people about what transpired between them)

“So, how’d it go?” Clint asks, adjusting his hearing aid to make sure he doesn’t miss anything while he and Steve sit in traffic as they drive from the airport to the tower.

“I kissed him,” is not exactly the response Clint was expecting, and apparently Steve’s a little bit surprised that he said that aloud if his expression is anything to go by.

“I, uh, I meant the audition,” Clint replies, somehow managing to keep his voice steady despite the urge to laugh. “But that’s pretty cool.”

“Shit,” Steve hisses, as he presses the heels of his hands against his eyes and inhales deeply. “Sorry, I just- I kind of can’t stop thinking about it. Opened my big mouth before I really considered the question.”

Clint chuckles as he switches lanes, waving to the car behind him in thanks.

“Well, that’s good, though,” Clint replies. “I mean, you like him, right? So, I bet kissing him was nice.”

“It was,” Steve sighs, a dreamy little smile curling across his mouth. Clint can’t help snickering at the expression, but Steve doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Of course, it’s against the rules since he’s a producer and I’m a contestant,” Steve says, his tone gloomy. “Should have guessed that, really.”

“Ooooh, forbidden romance,” Clint grins, shooting a sidelong glance over at Steve. True to form, Steve’s blushing to the roots of his hair and fidgeting in his seat. “That’s the best kind. I almost envy you, Rogers. And hey, congrats on getting onto the show, that’s awesome.”

Steve exhales a laugh at that, running a hand through his hair. 

“This is just between us, Clint,” Steve says. “I mean, the rest of them will find out what happened between Bucky and me; I have no doubt I’ll give it away somehow. Christ, Sam’ll know something’s up as soon as he sees me. But you tell no one about this conversation, got it? Not even Nat.”

“Cap, I’m offended,” Clint grins. “You know Nat and I weren’t always on the same side. I _can_ keep a secret from her, contrary to popular belief. Besides, if she knows that I found out about it before her, she’ll probably kill us both.”

Steve laughs softly at that, some of the tension finally easing from his shoulders. “Fair point.”

The two of them sit quietly for a few minutes before Clint clears his throat and breaks the silence. 

“So, what’s your plan here, Rogers? How you gonna get the guy?”

In his peripheral vision, Clint can see Steve shaking his head, and when he glances over at the other man, Steve looks equal parts determined and apprehensive. 

“Bucky says we can hang out as friends while I’m in California, but I’m not sure how well that’s gonna work out now that I know what kissing him is like,” Steve admits. “I am so out of my depth here, Barton. I haven’t done this kind of thing since 1945, and times have changed quite a bit. But I really do want to spend time with him.”

Clint curses under his breath and hits the brake as a minivan cuts them off before saying, “Well, friends is a good start. You hang out with the guy, you drop some casual touches here and there, you flirt with him when nobody else is around. I mean, he’s interested in you too, right? The way you’re talking, it seems like it’s pretty mutual.” 

“Yeah, he’s interested for now,” Steve sighs. “We’ll see if that lasts. Besides, who knows how long I’m gonna be on the show? Could be one weekend of filming, and then what? I spend a day or two there before flying back? We slowly stop talking? I never get to know him the way I want to?”

Clint smirks as he takes their exit, “There’s a simple solution here, Steve.”

“What’s that?” Steve questions as they merge into traffic.

“Don’t lose.”

Clint’s focused on the road, but he has no doubt Steve is rolling his eyes. 

“Real helpful, Barton,” Steve deadpans. “Thanks a lot.”

“You are so welcome, Captain.”

* * *

 

Steve drops his leather duffel in his entryway with a sigh of relief after he closes his door. As much fun as he’s had in the last 36 hours or so, it’s nice to be back in his own space. Steve resolves to unpack later and wanders over to his sofa, plopping down onto the soft cushions with a contented hum.

He pulls out his cell and checks the time to make sure it’s not too early before typing out a quick text to Bucky. 

_Hey, made it home from the airport._

Steve tips his head back and closes his eyes, savoring the silence of his apartment. It’s a small miracle that none of the Tower’s other inhabitants have come up to harass him yet. He nearly drifts into a doze before his phone begins to vibrate against his thigh. Steve grins when he sees it’s a return text from Bucky. 

_Glad to hear it. Oughta get a nap in before the jet lag gets to you._

Steve chuckles before composing a response.

_Nah, I figure I’ve got ten minutes at best before at least a couple of my friends barge in to see how the audition went._

Steve hits send, contemplating how best to tell said friends that he’d kissed a near-stranger the first day he’d met the guy. 

Except… 

Well, Bucky’s not really a stranger as far as Steve’s concerned. Sure, he’s only seen Bucky in person once, but they’ve talked quite a bit over the last month. Hell, Steve feels like he’s known the other man for much longer than that. 

Bucky’s response comes quickly. _Are you going to tell them everything?_

And yeah, Steve had been planning on sharing all of the details of his trip with most of his friends. It’s only now occurring to him that Bucky might not want him to, and Steve can understand that given the man’s job would be on the line if word somehow gets out. Steve carefully considers how to answer before sending Bucky another text.

_I was going to, but only the friends I know can keep a secret. I don’t have to tell anyone, though, if you’d prefer to keep it between us._

The ellipses that signal an incoming text appear immediately on Steve’s screen, so he waits. 

_No, it’s ok. But, yeah, just make sure not to tell anybody with loose lips._

Steve’s relieved to say the least. Between Sam and Natasha, there’s no way he could keep a secret like this for very long. Steve rereads the text with a chuckle and decides to have a little fun with Bucky. 

_Quit sending my texts about lips or all I’m gonna be able to think about are yours._

Steve doesn’t wait this time; he’s too nervous to see how Bucky will respond. He sets the phone down on his coffee table and goes to make himself a snack and grab a glass of water. When he returns with said water and a bowl of cut fruit, there’s a voicemail waiting for him. 

“Christ, am I glad I gave you my personal number, Rogers,” Bucky’s somewhat breathless chuckle brings a smirk to Steve’s lips. “Wouldn’t do to get texts like that from a contestant on my work phone. I got a meeting in ten, so no need to call back. I’ll probably be distracted for the duration of it now, so thanks for that.Anyway, glad you got home safe, and I’ll talk to you later. Have a good day, pal.”

Steve snickers as he pops a piece of watermelon into his mouth. Friends might not be so bad after all. 

* * *

 

“Becca wants to know why you’re screening her calls,” Wanda says as she strolls into Bucky’s office around noon and sits down in the chair in front of his desk. Bucky doesn’t even look up from his computer.

Wanda crosses her legs and smiles archly. “She thinks it’s because something happened with Steve and you don’t want me to find out about it.She promises she can keep a secret.”

Bucky’s shoulders are tense and his keystrokes get more aggressive with every word Wanda speaks.

Yes, Wanda thinks, something clearly transpired last night after she’d taken Becca home. 

Bucky finishes typing and looks up at Wanda, steely eyes narrowed.

“I think maybe you and Becca have meddled enough in my personal life for the week,” Bucky replies, shooting Wanda a grin that looks more like a grimace. “We had a drink at the hotel bar when I dropped him off. That’s all. Besides, you and I both know Becca can’t keep a damn thing from you to save her life.”

Wanda chuckles as she crosses her arms over her chest and leans back in the chair. 

“Well, that’s true,” Wanda says. “But you know, I don’t think I believe that’s all that happened last night. You should have seen the way he looked at you, Bucky.”

“Wanda,” Bucky warns, slumping forward until his head is in his hands. _“Please.”_

Wanda stands up and walks around Bucky’s desk, placing her hands on his shoulders and massaging gently. The tightness begins to seep from her friend’s shoulders bit by bit, which is a relief.

“Bucky,” Wanda says. “I’m not asking you to tell me if anything happened, but you can talk to Becca. And you _can_ talk to me. You got me this job for god’s sake; I’m not going to sell you out over something like this. You’re the best boss I’ve ever had.”

Bucky turns and looks up at Wanda with a small smile. “Really?”

“Yes, really, you fool,” Wanda rolls her eyes as she takes a step back. “And if you don’t want to talk about Steve, that’s fine. We both understand. But you know how Becca worries about you. She just wants you to be happy, and you two did look awfully cute last night.” 

“All right, look,” Bucky relents. “Call Becca and tell her to meet us for lunch if she can. Wherever you guys want to go is fine, I just don’t want to talk about it here. I’m not saying anything happened, but I’d feel better if we weren’t in this building while we have this conversation.”

* * *

 

Steve wakes to late afternoon sunlight streaming through his windows and knocking on his door. He stretches with a groan and shouts that the door is open. Natasha practically sprints toward the couch a few seconds later. Sam follows at a more reasonable pace, smirking at the redhead’s enthusiasm.

“How’d it go, how’d it go, how’d it go?” Natasha sing-songs as she dives onto the couch, her eyes wide and hopeful as she looks up at Steve. He can’t help chuckling at the expression. 

“It went well,” Steve replies, raising his hand in greeting as Sam takes a seat in one of his armchairs. “You guys want anything to drink? A snack?”

Natasha groans. “Just tell us about your trip and then we’ll worry about food, Rogers.”

Steve glances over at Sam, who just shrugs. “Look, you’re lucky I managed to keep her away long enough for you to get in some quiet time, bud. Best tell the lady what’s up before she combusts.”

Steve nods. “Well, like I said, it went well. Everyone there was incredibly nice and I had a lot of fun. And I got on the show.”

Sam and Natasha roll their eyes nearly in unison. 

“No shit,” Sam deadpans. “Couldn’t have called that one.”

“Honestly,” Natasha quips. “Who’d’a thunk that a handsome, charming super soldier would be selected for _Jeopardy?_ Color me shocked.” 

Steve opens his mouth to retort, but Natasha holds her hand up and shoots him a pointed look before continuing.

“Rogers, come on, you know why we’re here. Not that we’re not thrilled that you get to be on the show, but tell us about Bucky already.”

Steve huffs out a laugh as he stands and points toward his kitchen doorway. “I’m gonna need a beer for this.”

“Why?” Sam smirks. “Not like it affects you.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he stands and strides toward the kitchen.“It’s just comforting, geez. You guys want one or what?”

“Oh, this is going to be _good_ ,” Natasha grins as she jumps up from the couch and motions for Sam to follow. 

Natasha and Sam seat themselves at Steve’s table, and Steve can feel their eyes burning holes in his back as he pulls three bottles from the fridge. He sets them down before settling into a chair himself.

“All right,” Steve says, keeping his tone serious. “I’ll tell you everything, but you have to _swear_ not to tell _anyone_. Especially Tony. He’ll be pissed if he finds out later, but you know he can’t keep a secret to save his life.”

His friends nod, looking at him expectantly. So, Steve tells them. He tells them about how kind Bucky was before the audition. They laugh as he explains how he’d met Bucky’s sister and her girlfriend. He watches their eyes widen as he discusses going out to dinner later that night.

Steve recounts the ride back to his hotel on the back of Bucky’s bike, and the way he’d had to cling tight to the other man. The easy conversation between the two of them at the bar. Inviting Bucky back to his room.

“Oh my _god,”_ Natasha exclaims with a wicked grin. “Steven Grant Rogers, did you two fondue?”

Steve quietly curses the fact that Howard had apparently told his son the story of their trip across enemy lines during the war and had spared no detail.

“No,” Steve replies, trying to ignore the heat rushing to his face. “But I, um. I kissed him. And I wouldn’t have been opposed to doing more than that.”

Sam lets out a low whistle, chuckling as he claps a hand to Steve’s shoulder. “Bold move, Steve. So what stopped you?”

Steve then explains that _Jeopardy_ has rules about employee and contestant interactions, but that Bucky had promised him a date once he was no longer on the show. 

“I’ve never been more proud of you than I am right now,” Natasha smiles. “Here I am trying to set you up with people for ages when you apparently needed no help whatsoever. So, you gonna just throw the first game or?”

Steve bristles, and his friends both laugh at the incredulous expression on his face.

“Of course I’m not,” he huffs. “That’d be dishonest. Besides, I was planning on donating all of the money that I won to the foundation.I’m going to win for as long as I can.”

Natasha’s expression softens immediately at that. “Oh, Steve, your mom would be so proud of you.”

Steve hopes so, considering he’d named the charity in her honor.

Sure, he knows most people think his time as a soldier and his current status as an Avenger are the most impressive things about him, but Steve’s proudest achievement by far is the Sarah Rogers Foundation. Tony had helped him set up the organization last year to help families pay for health care for their chronically ill children. Every cent he wins on _Jeopardy_ will be going to it.

“Thanks, Nat,” Steve replies, trying to swallow past the sudden lump in his throat.

“Winnin’ money for your charity and gettin’ to know a good-lookin’ man,” Sam grins before taking a pull from his bottle. “Suppose there’s worse ways you could spend your time.”

Steve shakes his head and smiles. “S’pose so.”

* * *

 

“Shut up!” Becca exclaims, her dark eyes wide and her Cobb salad completely untouched as she stares at her brother. 

“Becca,” Bucky hisses. “Keep your goddamn voice down.”

Becca glances over at Wanda to see a more tempered version of her shock mirrored in her girlfriend’s expression. Sure, Steve had been unable to take his eyes off of Bucky for more than thirty seconds during dinner the night before, but Becca had assumed a man born in 1918 would be a little less forward.

Apparently not.

“I’m sorry, I’m just surprised,” Becca laughs, chin in her hands as she watches Bucky shift in his chair. “I mean, not that he’s into you.Anybody with eyes could see that.”

Bucky sighs, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “Look, it was just a kiss. And yeah, I promised him a date once he’s finished his run on the show, but let’s get real for a second here, ok? Steve Rogers is a fuckin’ national icon.Guy could land any human being on the planet. There’s no reason to assume that this’ll go anywhere, especially considering the fact that once he’s done on _Jeopardy,_ there’ll be about three thousand miles between us.”

“Bucky, come on-” Wanda begins, but Bucky holds up a hand to stop her.

“I’m not trying to be a downer here,” Bucky reassures the women with a grin. “I just. I don’t want to get my hopes up, guys.”

Becca would like to smack her brother upside the head, but she just nods with a sad smile. National icon or not, Steve would be lucky to end up with a guy like Bucky, but Becca knows how futile arguing with Bucky is once he’s made up his mind. 

Of course, this doesn’t stop her girlfriend from putting in her two cents, and Becca is reminded for the billionth time why she loves Wanda.

“That’s reasonable,” Wanda agrees. “But if he wants you and you close yourself off because you’re a chicken, I will toss you out a window, Barnes.”

_Yes,_ Becca thinks as she and her brother burst into surprised giggles. _I have chosen wisely._

* * *

 

Steve’s in bed with a book when he catches his phone screen lighting up with a call out of the corner of his eye. 

Steve doesn’t flail exactly when he see it’s Bucky calling, but his book maybe flies out of his hands as he fumbles for the device. 

He takes a deep breath before answering, doing his best to sound cool and collected. 

“Hey,” Steve says, unable to keep a smile from his face.

“Hey,” Bucky replies. “Ok time to call? I know it’s kind of late there, but work was kind of insane today and I only got home half an hour ago.”

Steve shifts so that he’s sitting cross-legged and glances at the clock, surprised when he sees that it’s past eleven.

“Nah, not too late,” Steve says. “I don’t need as much sleep as most people. Was just readin’.”

“Of course you don’t, Superman,” Bucky jokes. “Whatcha readin’?”

Steve can feel a blush rising to his face as he looks down at the paperback lying on top of his comforter. “It’s, um. You know what, it’s probably not a book you’re familiar with.”

Bucky’s answering laugh is low and warm, as he replies, “Oh, now I’m intrigued. You’re not reading, like, one of those _Fifty Shades_ books or somethin’ are you?”

Steve huffs as he says, “I tried to read one of them once, but I don’t get much joy out of reading about romanticized abuse, you know?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t get into the story either,” Bucky says, and Steve can hear the smile in the other man’s voice. “But really, what on earth are you reading that you’re bein’ so cagey about? I’m not really a judge-y guy, Rogers.”

Steve exhales. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“No,” Bucky chuckles. “But you should tell me anyway.”

Steve barks out a laugh and rolls his eyes. 

“Jerk,” he says. “But fine.It’s a book called _The Boy Next Door_ by Meg Cabot. It’s, uh, it’s kind of a romance novel, I guess? It’s sweet. My favorite librarian recommended it.”

For a moment, Steve thinks Bucky got disconnected because the line is completely silent. 

“Bucky?” he asks.

“I’m here,” Bucky says, voice soft and a little bit raspy. “Just- I actually really liked that book. Becca and I read it together one summer when we were teenagers. We were kind of like our own little book club. Took turns picking and everything. She’s wild about Meg Cabot books, so I ended up reading a bunch of them.”

Steve grins as he feels warmth bloom in his chest as he teases, “That’s _adorable._ ”

Bucky groans out a laugh. “God, I’m sorry I mentioned it now.”

“Don’t be,” Steve replies, tone more serious this time. “Really, that’s sweet, Buck. You’re a good brother. You and Becca will have to tell me about the rest of Meg’s bibliography when I’m back in LA.”

“We will,” Bucky says. “Tell me about some other books you’ve read and liked. Maybe I can come up with a few more recommendations.”

The two of them talk about books until Steve’s eyes begin to droop and he reluctantly bids Bucky good night.

* * *

 

Bucky tosses and turns in his bed later that night, thoughts of Steve on his mind. Every new detail he learns about the guy is endearing. Steve still goes to the library regularly if the fact that he has a _favorite librarian_ is any indication. He’s also a hopeless romantic given that he apparently reads Meg Cabot for Christ’s sake. 

_How in god’s name am I supposed to resist this man?_

Of course, thoughts of Steve inevitably lead to thoughts of that kiss. Bucky’d been too tired and surprised when he got home the night before to really consider it, but now? Christ, now all Bucky can think about are Steve’s lips on his, soft yet demanding, and so _good._

Bucky remembers the feeling of Steve’s hands on him, the heat emanating from the other man, the hard body just beneath Bucky’s fingertips. 

Bucky whimpers low as he slides a hand down his stomach, fingers inching past the elastic waist of his sleep pants. He wonders what might have happened if he hadn’t stopped Steve as he trails feather light touches down his rapidly hardening shaft. 

He lets himself imagine.

Bucky moans as he wraps a hand around his cock and begins to stroke, thoughts of Steve’s mouth trailing down his neck and chest leaving him breathless. Bucky shifts, continuing his ministrations as he pulls open the top drawer of his nightstand and fishes around until he finds the lube.

Because, hey, if Bucky’s going to masturbate to completely inappropriate thoughts about a man he’s not allowed to date, he might as well go all out, right?

Bucky slides the pants down his hips, wriggling and kicking until they’re lost somewhere underneath his covers. He shifts until he has easy access to his entrance and uncaps the bottle and squeezes lube into his hands. 

Bucky begins by pressing a cool, slick digit to his hole, gasping softly as he presses down. He slowly works the finger into himself, imagining it’s Steve’s as he resumes stroking his cock. 

“Fuck,” Bucky chokes out as he adds a second finger and begins to open himself up. He shudders as he crooks his fingers, rubbing gently against his prostate and imagines Steve whispering filthy sweet nothings into his ear.

Bucky begins to finger-fuck himself in earnest, a light sheen of sweat breaking out across his lightly tanned skin as he thrusts into his hand. Wonders how much better Steve’s cock would feel than his fingers. 

The thought of Steve sliding into him, fucking Bucky into the mattress with no reservation, turns out to be too much. Bucky comes with a shiver and a broken moan of Steve’s name.

Yeah, Bucky thinks to himself as his release cools on his stomach. This whole “professional integrity” thing is liable to kill him. 


	6. This is Jeopardy! (Or, Captain America surprises the hell out of everybody)

Steve is going to faint. 

His hands clutch the edge of his podium, and he can feel cold sweat trickling down his spine as he surveys the studio audience. They’re all chattering excitedly, glancing up at Steve and his fellow contestants from time to time as they talk.

Steve catches sight of his team in the audience and the tightness in his chest loosens slightly. Tony and Clint appear to be arguing amicably over something if Tony’s wild hand gestures and Clint’s smirk are any indication, while Nat and Sam watch in amusement.

Steve’s eyes land on Becca a moment later, and the smile on her face is so genuine as she waves at Steve that he can help but return it as he waves back.

Sure, Steve’s still shaking a little as he tries to talk himself down from a panic attack, but he feels a bit better knowing that he’s got some support out in the audience. 

“Hey, soldier.”

Steve starts, and then looks to his left to see Bucky beaming at him. 

“Scared the shit outta me, Barnes,” Steve breathes. “Nervous enough as it is.”

Bucky chuckles, clapping a hand to Steve’s shoulder. 

“Don’t be,” Bucky replies. “You’re gonna do great.”

Bucky proceeds to make a show of checking to see that Steve’s buzzer and mic are working so that he can lean close to Steve and murmur, “You look fantastic. Blue is definitely your color, Captain. You’re really gonna pop on camera.”

Steve tugs at the hem of the blazer that Tony had insisted he wear for the first match, smiling shyly as he looks down at his crisp white button-up and his red tie before meeting Bucky’s gaze. 

“You think so?” Steve asks. “Not too much?”

“I think it’s perfect,” Bucky replies, smirking as he allows his eyes to linger on Steve for a moment. “I mean, you _are_ Captain America.”

Steve laughs, finally starting to relax as Bucky smiles at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Bucky says. “Good luck, Steve. Not that I think you’ll need it.”

Steve watches Bucky make his way over to the next contestant’s podium, tearing his eyes from him a moment later so as not to arouse any suspicion. Before Steve knows it, all of the buzzers and mics have been checked and Alex Trebek is stepping out into the studio. 

_Jesus Christ_ , Steve thinks to himself. _I’m really doing this._

Suddenly taking on fully staffed Hydra bases seems like a walk in the goddamn park.

* * *

 

Bucky holds his breath as the taping begins. The now-ubiquitous theme song starts to play and Johnny Gilbert’s voice fills the studio.

“This is _Jeopardy!_ ”

There’s generally about a million things Bucky needs to do throughout the production of each episode, but for the moment, the only thing he can focus on is Steve standing under the bright stage lights with a wide smile. 

“Today’s contestants are a veteran of the United States Army and current government employee from New York City, Steve Rogers.”

The audience goes wild, and Bucky’s heart swells as Steve’s eyes widen at the volume of the crowd. 

_Of course they love you, you dolt,_ Bucky thinks with a grin. _You’re Captain fucking America._

Johnny actually has to pause for a minute to let the noise die down before he continues his introductions, “A dental hygienist from Sacramento, California, Monique Carter. And our returning champion, an accountant from Cleveland, Ohio, Matthew Blake.And here’s your host, Alex! Trebek!” 

And then the game is underway. Bucky’s heart rate picks up, and he figures he might be able to breathe properly again sometime next week.

* * *

 

The first half of round one is a disaster for Steve.

Bucky watches the super soldier buzz in with his first correct answer, only to end up in the red because he’d forgotten to phrase it in the form of a question. The misstep seems to stick with Steve as he botches several more clues. The current champion, Matthew, dominates several categories, securing a substantial lead over Steve and Monique.

Steve does rally just before the end of the first break and manages to reach $1,200, but Bucky can feel himself beginning to panic nonetheless. 

Yes, it’s great that they’ve got a celebrity contestant on the show right now, and, yes, it would be ideal if Steve managed to win for a while because it’ll likely increase their viewership. But that’s not why Bucky wants Steve to do well.

No, the truth of the matter is that Bucky’s pretty sure they only way that he has a shot at getting to know the other man is if Steve keeps winning.

Bucky can see the frustration on Steve’s face, and wonders if there’s anything at all he can do to help, or some way that he can get Steve to center himself and focus on the task at hand. He needs some kind of a motivating factor, Bucky muses.

And suddenly, Bucky’s pretty sure he knows _exactly_ how to shake Steve into playing better. He makes his way over to Trebek quickly. 

“Bucky,” Trebek smiles at Bucky as he stops in front of the chair where his boss’s makeup is being touched up. “Everything all right?”

“Mr. Trebek,” Bucky nods in greeting as the older man surveys him. “Yes, everything’s fine. Look, I know we planned on one of Steve’s war stories for right after the first commercial break, but why don’t we start with a question about his foundation? You know the audience here and at home always loves it when somebody famous is planning on giving away their winnings to charity.”

Trebek looks pensive for a moment before nodding. “You know, I think you’re right. Save the war stories in case he manages to turn things around.”

Bucky nods. He and Steve hadn’t talked all that much about his charity, but Bucky gets the distinct impression that it’s a cause close to his heart since the foundation bears his mother’s name.

Steve looks a little surprised when Trebek brings up the Sarah Rogers Foundation, considering each contestant had already been briefed on which anecdote they’d be using for this episode. But then he’s talking animatedly about the charity and the work that they do, as well as how he’s hoping to make a considerable donation in the near future.

“Well,” Trebek smiles before moving on to the next contestant. “You’re going to have a chance to increase the size of that check you’ll be sending them in the remainder of this round and in Double Jeopardy.”

After speaking to the other two contestants, Trebek turns his attention back to Steve.

“Steve, you were the last contestant to answer correctly and are in control of the board,” he says. “Please make a selection.”

Gone is the uncertainty from Steve’s face as his eyes flit across the categories at the top of the board. In its place is a steely determination, and Bucky senses he’s about to witness one hell of a comeback. 

“Alex, I’ll take Sitcom by Characters for two hundred,” Steve says. 

Bucky feels his eyebrows shoot up toward his hairline. It’s hardly the choice he’d expected considering television is not something Steve was exposed to until he’d entered the 21 st century. Bucky hopes like hell Steve knows what he’s doing. 

Trebek reads the clue, “Gary Blauman. Ranjit. The Captain. Barney Stinson.”

Steve buzzes in before Trebek’s even finished speaking, waiting patiently before answering, “What is _How I Met Your Mother?”_

Bucky’s having a hard time hiding his shock as Steve then sweeps the category and manages to edge out Matthew for the lead before the end of the Jeopardy round. 

Bucky’s not sure which is more surprising: this immediate turnaround or the fact that Steve has seen enough _It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia_ to remember numerous supporting characters from the show.

* * *

 

Double Jeopardy ends up being something of a breeze for Steve. Sure, he fumbles a few questions, and Matthew closes the gap between their scores to $3,000 before Final Jeopardy, but Steve’s feeling pretty goddamn good.

Turns out all he needed was a reminder about who’d benefit if he won some money here today. And as his eyes find Bucky’s across the studio, Steve thinks he knows _exactly_ where that reminder came from. 

Steve turns his attention back to the task at hand as Trebek reads out the Final Jeopardy category, which turns out to be Civil War battles. 

Steve’s fairly sure he’s got this in the bag as long as he’s not afraid to take a risk. Given his time serving in the Army, he’s studied historical battles pretty extensively. It’s come in handy more than a few instances in his time leading the Avengers. 

Steve writes down his wager and hopes for the best. 

“This 1862 battle was the first major victory for the Union Army in the Western Theater, led by Brigadier General Ulysses S. Grant,” Trebek reads. 

For a moment, the only word that comes to mind is Antietam even though Steve knows that can’t possibly be correct since it was fought in Maryland. He closes his eyes and concentrates on breathing evenly as he begins to recite battles in his head. 

And then it’s there, clear as a bell: The Battle of Fort Henry.

Steve writes his answer quickly, making sure it’s legible enough to be read and waits as the _Jeopardy_ theme plays. Finally, the music stops and Alex turns his attention to Monique. 

“All right, let’s start with you, Monique,” Trebek says. “You wrote down ‘What is the Battle of Fort Henry. That is correct. And you wagered? $5,000, which brings you to a total of $10,200.”

Trebek smiles as he turns his attention to Steve.

“All right, let’s see what our former Army Captain wrote down,” Trebek says. “You also answered correctly with the Battle of Fort Henry. And your wager… everything! Which brings you to a grand total of $22,800. Excellent showing, but is it enough to beat our current champion?”

Steve waits with baited breath as Trebek addresses the accountant. 

“Matthew, you don’t look too pleased with yourself,” Trebek begins, and Steve can’t see his expression, but he can tell the other man is shaking his head. 

“Ah, and that’s because you wrote down ‘What is the Battle of Antietam?’ Unfortunately, that is incorrect and you lose - $4,500 bringing your total down to $6,600. And that means we’ve got a new _Jeopardy_ Champion, folks. Congratulations, Steve, and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

The contestants and Trebek make a show of chatting once the credits begin to roll as if filming is finished for the day, but Steve knows he’s got under an hour before he’s back behind the podium.

“Excuse me,” Steve looks up from his brief conversation with Monique and grins when he sees Bucky standing there. “Sorry to interrupt, but we’ve got to prep Steve for the next shoot.”

Steve bids Monique and Matthew farewell and Trebek wishes him luck with the next match.

“I can see how getting a week’s worth of episodes filmed in one day makes your job easier,” Steve says as he and Bucky make their way out of the main studio and back to Steve’s green room. “But Jesus, I feel like I could sleep for a week. That was exhausting.”

Bucky laughs as they cross the threshold and then steers Steve toward the makeup chair. 

“Well, I’m hoping you can push past your fatigue because that was fucking incredible,” Bucky replies as Steve takes a seat. “Seriously, Steve, you _crushed it_ , and the audience adored you.”

Steve tilts his head and smirks as he says, “You know it’s funny, I was doing terribly until Trebek brought up the foundation. A little unexpected because here I was assuming I’d be talkin’ about the Howlies during today’s first game. Wonder who thought to change it up?”

Bucky’s reaction is instantaneous, and a deep flush rushes to his face as he stammers out, “Well, uh, Alex must have, uh, must have thought it’d be better to save the story for later.”

Steve chuckles, leaning forward and gripping Bucky’s wrist, tugging him until they’re at eye level.

“Right,” Steve purrs. “I’m sure that a certain producer had nothing at all to do with it.”

Steve watches Bucky’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, stormy eyes flicking from Steve’s own to the floor. He’s more than a little tempted to mouth his way up Bucky’s throat, but he holds still.

“Well, I-” Bucky begins, but Steve pulls him closer and that shuts Bucky right up.

“I’d kiss you for that right now if I could,” Steve sighs, closing his eyes and squeezing Bucky’s wrist gently before letting him go. “Thank you.”

When Steve opens his eyes, Bucky’s gaze is trained squarely on his mouth, and if it weren’t for the makeup artist choosing that moment to enter the room, Steve’s pretty sure the two of them would be making out.

Instead Bucky straightens up and backs away from Steve, greets the young woman walking through the doorway with a warm smile, and then bolts from the room with a hurried excuse about preparing for the next episode.

Steve takes a deep breath and instead of dwelling on how tired he is, he concentrates on the knowledge that Bucky did a really sweet thing for him today and the warmth that fills his chest at the thought.

He hopes it’s enough to sustain him for four more matches.

* * *

 

Steve is on fucking _fire_. 

The studio audience looks as stunned as Bucky feels as Steve easily dominates the next two match-ups. And, though his margins of victory are smaller in the last two, he manages to beat his challengers.

Five games in and the guy’s total winnings stand at over $100,000. The depth and breadth of Steve’s knowledge is frankly _astounding_ considering all he’s missed. 

“He’s something else, eh?” Wanda asks Bucky with a sly smirk. 

The two of them and Scott are standing just outside one of the studio exits. Filming’s finished for the day, and Bucky’s enjoying the late afternoon sunlight on his skin and getting a chance to commiserate about Steve’s extraordinary performance so far. 

“That’s an understatement,” Bucky laughs as he leans back against the wall, and Scott nods in agreement. “The man’s a veritable encyclopedia. It’s insane.”

“Not so much if you know him,” a raspy female voice interjects. Bucky turns and nearly jumps when he sees Natasha Romanoff standing just a few feet from them. The rest of the Avengers are in tow.

_When_ , Bucky wonders to himself as he tries to keep his cool, _did my life get so fucking surreal?_

As wild as it is to be face-to-face with the likes of Black Widow, Falcon, Hawkeye and fucking _Iron Man_ , Bucky can’t take his eyes off of Steve. He looks genuinely relaxed for the first time in hours in a pair of fairly loose-fitting jeans and a navy hoodie. He also looks like he’d be willing to curl up on the ground and take a nap right about now. 

“Bucky, I figured you oughta meet the rest of the team,” Steve says, pointing out each of his teammates and introducing them as though they aren’t some of the most famous people in the United States and also, you know, _the world._

“Guys, this is Bucky Barnes. I introduced you to his sister Becca inside; this is her girlfriend and another _Jeopardy_ producer, Wanda Maximoff. And Scott Lang, also a producer.”

They all make polite conversation for the next ten minutes or so (and this time Scott manages to keep some level of control, thank _fuck_ ) before Steve yawns wide enough to crack his jaw. 

“Looks like our cue to exit,” Natasha grins up at Steve, who laughs softly.

“Yes, mom,” Steve quips before turning his attention to the _Jeopardy_ crowd. “We’re all staying at Hotel Amarano, and we figure relaxing by the pool should make for a good Sunday. You guys should come by if you’re not busy.”

Bucky knows the invite is open to all of them, but he’s the only one Steve’s _really_ looking at. So he nods.

“Yeah, I’m in,” Bucky replies once he finds his voice, loving the pleased smile that curls across Steve’s lips. “I mean, I gotta at least come in tomorrow morning to oversee some of editing stuff, but I should have the afternoon free. Wanda?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the _world_ ,” Wanda chuckles as she looks up at Steve. “Can Becca come?”

“I already invited her,” Steve replies. “Scott?”

“Like I’m gonna turn down an invite from Captain America and the Avengers,” Scott scoffs.

“Wonderful,” Natasha smirks, and her expression is calculating as she looks at Bucky. “We have _so_ many questions.”

“About _Jeopardy_ ,” Steve rushes to add, glaring down at his friend as a blush rises to his cheeks. “They have questions about _Jeopardy._ For all of you.”

Well, Bucky thinks to himself as the rest of the Avengers snicker. Looks like they all know that Steve’s into him at the very least, and Natasha clearly knows even more. He’s got a sneaking suspicion that he’s going to spend his Sunday being grilled to within an inch of his life by an ex-KGB agent. 

It occurs to Bucky that if a team of superheroes is going to try and figure out if he’s good enough for their friend, then he might actually stand a chance with Steve when all of this gameshow business is said and done. 

“We’d be happy to answer _any_ questions you have,” Bucky replies with a smile. “See you all tomorrow.”

Steve waves as he and his friends depart, a matching grin on his face. 

As the producers head back into the studio, Wanda has the decency to wait until Scott is out of earshot before whispering, “So, do you want to talk about the fact that he booked a hotel in Burbank instead of Culver City or LA?”

Bucky huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. 

“Shut up and get back to work, Maximoff.”

* * *

 

Bucky’s hopping onto his bike several hours later when he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket. He pulls it out and slides his thumb across the screen to answer the call. 

“You know what you’re in for tomorrow, right?” Steve’s voice comes across the line, and he sounds more than a little unsure. 

Bucky throws his head back on a laugh because Steve’s concern is just about the cutest thing he’s ever experienced. 

“Rogers,” Bucky smiles. “I know you’re a superhero and all, but I can handle myself in situations like this. Promise. Now go get some rest, ok? I don’t want you fallin’ asleep on me tomorrow if I’m going through the gauntlet just to hang out with you.”

Steve sighs. “You really gotta stop doing and saying things that make me want to kiss you while it’s still against the rules.”

“And you gotta stop telling me you wanna kiss me,” Bucky exhales a chuckle. “Now go to bed, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Night, Bucky,” Steve mumbles, but Bucky can still hear the smile in his voice.

“Night, Steve.”


	7. I Can See Why You Like Him (Or, the Avengers have a pool party)

Bucky’s a little bit nervous on the elevator ride up to the Hotel Amarano’s rooftop pool the following afternoon, but he’s got a pretty good feeling that he’s going to be able to handle whatever this day throws at him. 

After all, it’s not like he’s never had to hang out with the friends of a man he’s been interested in before, and really, how bad could the Avengers be? Sure, Bucky figures he’ll get a bunch of invasive questions about his intentions or some bullshit like that, but he’s ready for it. 

What Bucky is wholly unprepared for is the sight of Steve Rogers emerging from the pool clad in a fairly short American flag bathing suit. 

The son of a bitch actually has the nerve to shake out his hair and then push it back away from his stupidly perfect face while water droplets slide down his stupidly perfect body. 

Bucky wonders briefly if he’s having a heart attack, but there’s no pressure or pain, so he figures it’s just a run-of-the-mill nervous breakdown.

“Christ, he looks Photoshopped,” Becca whispers as she adjusts her sunglasses to get a better view, giggling when she notes her brother’s gobsmacked expression. “Oh, Wanda, I think Bucky’s broken.”

And, yeah, given the fact that Bucky has an absolutely spectacular view of Steve’s dripping wet and incredibly well-defined torso as Steve begins to stride toward them, maybe he’s short-circuiting just a little bit. 

Bucky manages to tear his gaze away from Steve’s hips just in time for those beautiful, ocean blue eyes to meet his own. They crinkle as Steve smiles, and god, why did Bucky think that the two of them hanging out with other people would be a good idea? How the fuck is he supposed to keep his cool when Steve looks as good as he does?

This is going to be a fucking disaster.

“Hey!” Steve exclaims as he reaches out to touch Bucky, placing his hand on Bucky’s shoulder and squeezing before pulling back. “Shit, sorry, I’m getting you all wet.”

“I wish,” Bucky murmurs, the realization of what he’s just said dawning on him as Steve’s eyes widen comically.

“What?” Steve asks, clearly trying not to laugh. Bucky can hear Wanda and Becca snickering behind him. Scott, thankfully, is busy checking out a group of pretty young women by the pool’s bar and is completely oblivious to Bucky’s utter mortification.

“I, uh, said ‘No problem,’” Bucky lies, not at all smoothly. Steve’s lips curl into a smirk, and for a moment Bucky’s pretty sure the other man isn’t going to let Bucky’s slip-up go. 

But then he turns around, motioning for Bucky and the others to follow him. 

“Oh, good,” Sam grins as he sees them all approaching the lounge chairs where the rest of the team is sprawled. “We were just about to order some pizzas, but we weren’t sure what you guys would want.”

“Pineapple,” Becca and Wanda answer in perfect unison, and most of the Avengers groan. Bucky’s with them; he’s never really understood the appeal of the tropical fruit on a pizza, but to each their own. 

“Yes!” Clint shouts, beaming at the two women. “See, I told you guys! Pineapple on pizza is delicious. These ladies know what’s up.”

Tony shakes his head in disgust, before turning his attention to Bucky and Scott. “And you two? Are you also lunatics?”

Scott and Bucky assure Tony that they are not and that as long as there are plain, pepperoni and sausage options, the two of them will be just fine. Sam gets up a moment later, motioning for Bucky to follow him to a quieter section of the rooftop area. Bucky drops the backpack filled with his work clothes onto the ground and does so.

“Sorry to pull you away,” Sam says, a small smile playing at his lips. “But I figure since you live in Burbank, you’d know where to call for good pizza. Plus, you kinda look like a deer in headlights, and I thought you might like a minute to breathe.”

Bucky blinks, a surprised laugh escaping him. 

“Uh, well,” Bucky thinks for a moment, debating what this crowd would like best. “There’s a couple good places, but my sister and I usually order from Gourmet Crust Pizza. Lotta options. And, thanks.”

Sam nods as he looks up the place on his phone, nodding before calling and placing the order.

“So, I know you got rules at _Jeopardy_ ,” Sam says once he’s hung up on the pizza joint, smiling as Bucky’s eyes widen. He did not expect this topic of conversation to come up quite so soon.

“Relax, Barnes, you’re not gonna get shit from me,” Sam smirks. “Not much, anyway. Steve’s a grown ass man who is completely capable of making his own choices without any input from the peanut gallery. But you do like him, right?”

Bucky opens his mouth to answers, but hesitates. Should he be completely honest? Play it kind of cool? 

Sam seems to sense his discomfort. “Look, man, I’m sorry. He’s my friend is all. I worry about the guy.”

“Seems like he can take care of himself just fine,” Bucky replies with a smile. “But I get it. And I do. Like him, that is.”

The grin that stretches across Sam’s face is warm and open, and Bucky feels himself begin to relax a little bit. 

“Good enough for me, man,” Sam says. “Now let’s get you a drink.”

* * *

 

Steve’s standing at the bar and waiting for a couple of beers and glancing back at his friends now and again. He smiles as he watches them all chatting and laughing and enjoying their pizza. 

A familiar voice draws him out of his thoughts about how well the afternoon is going, and he’s hardly surprised that she’d manage to sneak up on him. That’s her specialty, after all. 

“I can see why you like him.”

Steve glances to his right and smiles down at Natasha. He thanks the bartender as the woman places several bottles in front of him, then sets down enough cash to cover the drinks and her tip.

“Oh, yeah?” Steve asks as he gathers up the beers. “High praise coming from you considering you only just met the guy.”

Natasha shrugs, grinning. “Oh, come on, I’m not _that_ bad.”

Steve quirks a brow, and Natasha sighs as the two of them slowly make their way back to their group. 

“You’re my friend, Steve,” Natasha says, grabbing one of the bottles from Steve and taking a quick sip. “Whether you like it or not, that means I’m going to worry about you. But I’m not really worried about Bucky. You know you light up like a fucking Christmas tree every time the two of you make eye contact, right?”

Steve can feel a blush rising to his cheeks as he mumbles, “I do _not_.”

Natasha snorts as she tucks a stray piece of fiery hair behind her ear. “You do. It’s adorable, by the way.”

And as much as Steve would like to continue trying to deny it, he knows Natasha’s right. Sure, he has no idea what he looks like whenever he and Bucky interact, but he knows how he feels. 

His heart races. His stomach flutters. He feels suddenly lighter than air.

When Bucky’s gaze meets his, Steve feels like he’s being _seen_. Not just as a hero or a symbol or whatever, but as a human being with thoughts and feelings and dreams. 

Most people treat Steve like a weapon or a means to an end. Bucky treats Steve like a person. 

So, yeah, Steve guesses he can buy the whole “you light up like a fucking Christmas tree” description. 

“And Steve?” Natasha smirks up at him. 

“Yeah, Nat?” Steve asks.

“In case you were wondering, Bucky has the exact same reaction. That’s why I’m not worried.”

Steve hopes like hell his friend is right as they head back to grab a few more slices of pizza and enjoy the company of their guests.

“Also, I spent the last twenty minutes mercilessly questioning him about his life and his intentions.”

Steve throws his hands up into the air with a groan. “Jesus _Christ,_ Nat.”

Natasha’s answering grin is wicked, and Steve considers putting her into a headlock briefly, but decides it wouldcause too much of a scene.

“I’m kidding, Rogers, relax.”

* * *

 

“Jeez, but it’s hot,” Scott huffs as he pushes himself up off a lounge chair, then strips off his t-shirt. “Who’s up for a swim?”

Natasha watches Steve, Becca, Wanda and Sam rise from their chairs immediately and begin stripping down to their suits. She figures she’ll join them in a moment or two after she’s finished her beer. 

“C’mon, Bucky,” Scott grins at his friend. “I know you always get grumpy if you’re out in the sun too long. Oughta cool down.”

Natasha’s brow furrows as she watches Bucky’s entire body tense. He stands frozen between the table where they’d deposited the pizza and beer and his chair. 

“I, uh,” Bucky stammers out with a tight smile. “I’m good, but thank you.”

“You sure?” Steve asks, with an uncertain grin as he takes in Bucky’s posture. “It’ll be fun.”

Bucky still looks incredibly uncomfortable, but it’s nothing compared to the horror etched across Scott’s features. 

“Oh, shit,” Scott breathes, eyes wide and panicked. “I- shit, I’m sorry. I forgot.”

“I feel like I’m missing something,” Steve says, eyes darting from Bucky to Scott to Becca, who now looks as though she’d like to drown Scott. Natasha can’t help a small grin at the alarm on Steve’s face as he assesses the situation.

Bucky’s arm crosses his body, a hand coming to rest protectively against his left shoulder.

“I’m good, really,” Bucky replies, his smile a little more genuine this time as he rubs the joint. “And it’s nothing, Steve. Don’t worry about it.” 

But it’s not nothing, anyone with eyes could see that. The gears in Natasha’s head begin to turn.

Bucky’s insecure about taking off his shirt. It’s not a weight thing, considering the man’s got a fairly lean build. And his well-muscled arms and shoulders would seem to rule out the opposite: that Bucky is self-conscious about a body he finds _too_ slim.

Which leaves the distinct possibility that Bucky and Natasha have something in common. So, she decides to find out if that’s the case. 

Natasha stands from her chair, pulling off the cotton sundress she’d thrown on over her bikini before heading up to the pool. Her torso is littered with scars; some so small and faded they’re barely even there, some newer, larger and angrier looking. 

She makes her way over to Bucky with a smile.

“Come on, Barnes,” Natasha bumps her hip against Bucky’s once she reaches his side. “Whatever you got under that shirt can’t be as bad as all these marks.

Steve rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, Nat, you look terrible,” he deadpans. “And, Buck, if you’re uncomfortable you and I can just hang out on the chairs and talk or play cards or something.”

Natasha can tell Bucky’s listening to every word Steve’s saying by the way his head is tilted toward Steve, but he hasn’t taken his steely eyes away from hers. A small smile twitches at the corner of his lips before he takes a deep breath and strips off his t-shirt. 

“Nah, Steve,” Bucky replies, a light flush coloring his cheeks as Nat’s eyes are drawn to the raised, bumpy scar where Bucky’s arm meets the rest of his torso. Judging from the surprised expression on Steve’s face, it extends to Bucky’s back, as well.

“I’m good,” Bucky says, looking over his shoulder to smile at Steve before turning his attention back to Natasha.

“Thanks,” Bucky’s voice is just above a whisper. “That was really cool of you.”

Natasha shrugs, keeping her expression neutral. “You’re welcome. Between you and me, I think Steve would have been absolutely heartbroken if he didn’t get to see you shirtless. Skin graft?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nods, flushing even as he tries to ignore Natasha’s comment. It’s sort of adorable how flustered he looks, she thinks.

“Motorcycle accident back when I was in college,” he continues. “How’d you get yours?”

Natasha chuckles darkly. “Oh, Bucky, if I told you that, I’d have to kill you.”

“You know, I _think_ you’re joking,” Bucky laughs. “But I really have no trouble believing that.”

* * *

 

“All right?”

The voice startles Bucky a moment after he breaches the surface of the water in the deep end of the pool, inhaling oxygen in a long, loud gulp. When he turns, Steve is to his left, smiling softly. 

Bucky looks back to try and locate their friends. He sees them horsing around in the shallow end, but it’s obvious that they’re watching Bucky and Steve. They’re like a couple of goldfish in a goddamn bowl.

Bucky fights the urge to rolls his eyes as he turns back to Steve.

“Yeah,” Bucky grins, voice a little breathy as he swims a few feet to grab a hold of the edge of the pool. Steve follows.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Bucky says. “I just- I guess I get kind of shy around people who don’t know about the scar and have never seen it before? I’m not, like, ashamed of it or anything; it was only a surgery after an accident. It’s just always kind of uncomfortable at first.”

Steve nods.“I get it. I don’t have scars anymore because of the serum, but I used to have a lot.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot toward his hairline as he asks, “Really?” 

Steve chuckles, shrugging. “I was small and mouthy. Never really able to ignore bullies. So, yeah, I used to have a fair number of scars from all the scraps I got into.”

Bucky throws his head back on a laugh, high on the fondness he sees in Steve’s eyes and the blush dusting the other man’s cheeks. 

“You know, I can see that,” Bucky says. “Scrappy little Steve not backing down from a fight. Bet you were adorable.”

Bucky curses himself as a slow smirk works its way across Steve’s lips. 

_“Were?”_ Steve teases. “Bucky, you wound me.”

Bucky can feel heat rushing to his face, and he ducks his head as he chokes out a laugh.

“I think you know I didn’t mean it like that,” Bucky says. “You’re just lookin’ for an excuse to flirt.”

Steve barks out a laugh at that, and god, but Bucky wishes he could kiss Steve right now. 

“I won’t deny it,” Steve smirks, an arm reaching out to graze the raised skin of Bucky’s shoulder, and it’s a struggle not to shiver at the gentle touch. “Mainly because I don’t think you mind all that much. Hard not to flirt with somebody as pretty as you are, Buck.”

Bucky sighs and shakes his head, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he swims a few feet away from Steve. To say Steve looks surprised when Bucky arches back and kicks, sending a large splash of water into the blond’s face would be an understatement.

Sexy as Steve’s smirk is, Bucky has to admit it’s pretty fucking satisfying to wipe the smug smile off of his handsome face.

* * *

 

“Well, we ought to get going,” Becca says, glancing over at her girlfriend. Wanda yawns and nods her assent. It’s nearing eight, and it’s been a long day out in the sun. 

Scott stretches languidly before standing from the lounge chair he’s been occupying. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” Scott agrees. “Gettin’ kind of late, and we all have work early tomorrow.”

Becca doesn’t miss the way Steve’s eyes stray toward her brother, the longing in his expression evident as Bucky hesitates. 

“Probably not a bad idea to head home soon,” Bucky admits. “Although, I do live nearby and I dropped my car off at my house before walking over. I’m up for one more drink if anybody else is.”

Steve’s response is a near instantaneous, “Yeah, definitely!”

Becca grins as Steve realizes he sounds maybe a little over-eager. She’s not the only one who’s noticed Steve’s anxiety, since Sam and Nat immediately agree that Bucky hanging around for another drink is a great idea. 

As Bucky bids Becca goodbye a few minutes later, she leans in close to whisper, “Try not to get yourself in too much trouble, big brother.”

Bucky simply rolls his eyes, “I’ll call you tomorrow, Becks. Drive safe, ok?”

Wanda remains silent on the elevator ride down to the parking lot, her head resting on Becca’s shoulder until the doors open. They say good night to Scott and make their way to Becca’s car. Wanda waits until their doors are shut before turning to Becca with a grin. 

“So, do you want to take bets on whether ornot those two will be able to control themselves tonight, or?”

Becca chuckles as she slides the key into the ignition, stealing a quick kiss from Wanda before putting the car in reverse and backing carefully out of her spot.

“If they’re anything like we were right before we got together, I doubt it’ll take much,” Becca smirks, smile softening as Wanda takes her hand once she shifts the car into drive. “But I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

* * *

 

“All right,” Nat sighs, setting down an empty beer bottle. “I gotta finish packing, but Bucky it was wonderful to meet you.”

Bucky stands when Natasha does, prepared for a quick goodbye handshake. He’s more than a little surprised when the redhead pulls him into a hug. Sam follows suit with the same excuse.

“Early flight, man,” Sam says as he claps Bucky on the shoulder. “But today was a lot of fun. You should come hang out in New York sometime. Plenty of room in the Tower for a couple of guests.”

Bucky nods with a smile, wishing the two of them a good night and a safe flight tomorrow. Once they’ve departed, Bucky turns to face Steve. 

“I should go,” Bucky says, letting reluctance seep into his tone. Because if he’s being honest, he doesn’t want to leave, and he’s itching to spend some time alone with Steve even if it is a fucking terrible idea. 

“I’m sure you’re dying to get to bed,” Bucky continues, biting back a smile as Steve shakes his head.

“Nah, I’m good,” Steve replies. “Told you, I don’t usually need that much sleep. You, uh, you wanna watch a movie or something?”

Steve shoots Bucky a playful smile, eyes crinkling as Bucky huffs out a laugh.

“I don’t know that that’s such a great idea, Steve,” Bucky replies despite the fact that he very much wants to keep hanging out with Steve. 

Steve pouts, batting his eyelashes, andBucky decides to just give in, his eyes softening as he grins. 

“Fine,” Bucky sighs. “But no funny stuff.”

Steve gasps, clutching as his chest in mock offense. “Well of _course_. What kind of man do you think I _am_ , Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky rolls his eyes as he crosses his arms and snickers, “Just take me to your room, you sassy shit.”

Steve smiles as he stands and moves toward Bucky, letting gentle fingers trail across Bucky’s shoulders, and leaning in to murmur, “I thought you’d never ask.”

Bucky rolls his eyes again, but he can tell Steve doesn’t miss the way Bucky shivers before he says, “And you gotta promise to wake me up if I fall asleep, all right, Steve?”

“Yeah, I think I can handle that,” Steve says. “C’mon, then. Room tends to get kind of cold, but I can loan you some sweats if you want.”

Despite the fact that the jeans and button-up Bucky wore to work today are still snug in his backpack, he finds himself nodding as he grabs the bag and follows Steve to the elevators.

* * *

 

Steve would be lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed seeing Bucky shirtless today, but the sight of Bucky wearing one of Steve’s t-shirts and a pair of his sweatpants has his heart beating double time. The clothes are a little too big, and Bucky looks so soft as he curls up on the couch in Steve’s suite that Steve can’t really resist the urge to wrap an arm around him and pull him close. 

“Hey,” Bucky chuckles, fidgeting as Steve pulls Bucky into his side. “What are you doing?”

Steve grins at Bucky, noting the way Bucky’s gaze strays to his lips before he answers, “You never said cuddles were off limits. Friends cuddle all the time.”

Bucky’s brow furrows, disbelief coloring his features.

“Oh, really?” Bucky asks, body still tense as he surveys Steve.

Steve shrugs, running gentle fingers along Bucky’s back. “I mean, some of mine do. Not all the time, but when we need it. We don’t have a lot of time to get close to many people, and sometimes you just need to touch somebody to ground yourself after a long mission. Human contact’s a hell of a stress reliever.”

Bucky smiles then, relaxing against Steve. 

“Well, it’d be rude of me not to help out with any stress you might be feeling, wouldn’t it?” Bucky asks. “And I guess a little stress relief wouldn’t kill me either.”

“Good,” Steve replies as he grabs the remote and navigates to the OnDemand menu. “Now, are you more in the mood for a comedy or a thriller?”

The two of them end up settling on _Arsenic and Old Lace_ , which is a bit of both. Despite that, it’s not enough to keep Bucky awake if the soft snores Steve begins hearing about thirty minutes into the movie are anything to go by. 

Steve shifts slowly, and yes, Bucky is dead to the world. Steve’s breath stutters in his throat as he takes in the sight of the other man, his face smooth and serene as he sleeps. Bucky is absolutely breathtaking. 

Steve knows he promised to wake Bucky, but he can’t bring himself to do it, not when he looks so peaceful. So, Steve holds Bucky a little tighter and allows himself to drift off, the sound of Bucky’s slow, even breathing lulling him to sleep.

 


	8. It’s Not a Date (In which Bucky tries to convince himself and others that he and Steve are just taking part in some friendly activities)

Bucky wakes slowly on Monday morning, groaning as he regains consciousness. He hasn’t opened his eyes yet, but he can tell it’s lighter than it was when he and Steve started the movie. Which means it’s morning. Which means Steve didn’t wake Bucky up after he’d fallen asleep.

Bucky can’t quite muster the energy to be annoyed. 

He tries snuggling deeper into the couch to chase sleep just a little longer, but his eyes fly open when he realizes there’s a harder surface than cushions beneath him. 

Bucky just about stops breathing once he realizes he’s lying _on top of Steve_. 

One of Steve’s arms is wrapped around Bucky’s waist, and the other is tangled in his hair. His soft breath ghosts across Bucky’s skin, and fuck, this is decidedly a problem. 

Bucky shifts carefully, trying not to disturb Steve as he works on extricating himself from the other man’s grasp, but there’s nothing for it. Steve eyes snap open, widening as he takes in their position.

“Oh,” Steve rasps, pulling his hand out of Bucky’s hair and scrubbing it across his face. “Shit, sorry. Must have fallen asleep on the movie. You all right?”

Steve’s other hand begins rubbing soothing circles against Bucky’s lower back, and _fuck_ , Bucky wants this man. Wants him so bad, he could cry, and he needs to get himself up off this couch before he does something stupid like rolling his hips into Steve’s. 

“Hey,” Steve’s voice is soft as he addresses Bucky. “Relax, ok? We just passed out, that’s all. No big boundaries crossed last night, and I’m not gonna do anything now except get up and order you some breakfast before you head out to get ready for work, all right?”

And despite the fact that Bucky disagrees mightily about no boundaries being crossed as he gazes down at Steve’s sleep-mussed hair and gentle eyes, he nods and pushes himself up and off of Steve’s chest. 

“All right,” Bucky manages to croak out. “Ok if I use your bathroom?”

Steve nods, and Bucky bolts, trying to ignore the hammering in his heart and the urge to rush back to Steve and claim those perfect lips of his in a kiss.

* * *

 

Steve can feel the tension rolling off of Bucky in waves as the two of them eat pancakes and bacon in silence. He’s not sure how to go about easing the other man’s mind, but he knows he should try.

“Bucky,” Steve begins, heart fluttering as Bucky’s stormy eyes meet his. “Look, I really am sorry I didn’t wake you up right away. You just looked like you needed a little relaxation, and I didn’t think I was going to fall asleep that fast. I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable; that wasn’t my intention.”

“You didn’t-” Bucky says, pausing as though he’s trying to find the right words. “That’s not- I’m not mad at you or anything, Steve. It was just unexpected is all. Believe it or not, I don’t wake up on top of handsome men all that often.”

Steve chuckles, and Bucky finally begins to relax as the two of them continue to eat their breakfast, chatting absent-mindedly. It occurs to Steve that this – waking up with Bucky and just sharing a quiet morning with him – is the most at ease he’s felt in days. 

The thought should probably freak him out, but he just feels a sense of peace as Bucky finishes his meal and stands. 

“Well, I should get going,” Bucky says with a sigh. “Much as I’d like to play hooky, I have a lot scheduled today. I’ll, uh, talk to you later?”

Steve gets up and walks with Bucky to his door.

“You will,” Steve answers, squeezing Bucky’s shoulder. “Have a good day.”

“You too,” Bucky smiles, backing into the hallway. Steve waves awkwardly, wishing he could give Bucky a kiss goodbye as he closes the door gently and listens to Bucky’s footsteps fade down the carpeted hallway. 

“Shit,” Steve breathes as he places his forehead against the door, enjoying the feeling of the cool, hard surface against his overheating skin before stepping back and heading for the shower. 

* * *

 

“Holy shit,” Wanda breathes as she steps into Bucky’s office around mid-morning. Bucky’s head jerks up sharply at the intrusion. 

“What?” Bucky asks, leaning back in his chair. 

“Did you sleep with him?” Wanda whispers loudly, a gleeful smile on her pretty face. 

“What the fuck would make you say that?” Bucky hisses, his back ramrod straight as he glares at his employee.“And close the goddamn door, Wanda, fuck’s _sake_.”

Wanda complies immediately, shutting the door with a quick snap before sitting down. 

“I’m sorry,” Wanda chuckles. “But you’re wearing yesterday’s clothes. Not exactly inconspicuous, all things considered.”

Bucky groans, his head hitting his desk. “Fuck.”

“Did you?” Wanda asks, laughing when Bucky throws a pen at her. “What, it’s just a question.”

“No, we didn’t-” Bucky begins, mouth snapping shut at the knock on his door. “Come on in, door’s open.”

Scott enters the room with a wide smile, followed closely by Peter. Peter approaches Bucky’s desk, a manila folder in hand. 

“Just some things that need your signature, Bucky,” he smiles as he places the folder on Bucky’s desk. “I’ll leave you guys, but did you need anything before I go?”

“No, thank you, Peter,” Bucky replies. 

“Pete, hang on a sec, I was just gonna ask these guys what they wanna do for lunch,” Scott says as he leans against one of the window sills in Bucky’s office. “You wanna come? We’ll go somewhere decent and you won’t have to pay.”

“I, uh” Peter stammers, clearly surprised by the invitation. “That’s really nice, but you don’t have to do that.”

Bucky figures the kid will bag out unless he tells Peter they’d be happy to have him, so he does so because he’s pretty sure Peter would just eat Ramen for lunch five days a week without some sort of intervention. 

Peter agrees and the four of them quickly decide on a restaurant a few blocks over. Scott’s eyeing Bucky suspiciously throughout the entire conversation, and once they’ve settled the details, Bucky’s huffs out an annoyed, “What, Lang?”

“Nothing,” Scott says, pausing briefly before finishing his thought. “It’s just, weren’t you wearing that yesterday?”

God damn Bucky’s perceptive friends and their keen observational skills.

“Yeah,” Bucky admits, ignoring Wanda’s snickering. “Had more than one drink after you left, and they were worried about me walking home, so Steve let me crash on the couch in his suite. Woke up kind of late and didn’t have time to grab a change of clothes.”

“Steve _Rogers?”_ Peter squeaks. “Are you guys, like? Friends now?”

For a moment, Bucky misses how simple his life was before Steve Rogers crashed into it. 

“Yeah, Peter,” Bucky replies with a soft chuckle. “I think we kind of are.”

Peter’s face breaks into a wide smile, “Sweet!”

Bucky finds that he agrees wholeheartedly with the intern’s assessment of the situation. 

* * *

 

“You never answered my question,” Wanda says as she and Bucky leave the studio for the day around five. Bucky snorts and looks down at Wanda with disbelief as they step out into the early evening sunshine. 

“I told you all, I crashed on Steve’s couch,” Bucky replies, eyes narrowed as they walk to their vehicles. “That’s it.”

Wanda shakes her head. “You’re lying. You know I can tell when you’re lying.”

Bucky sighs, clearly deeply exasperated with her, and Wanda nearly laughs aloud at that.

“All right, look,” Bucky says. “I’ll tell you, but you _cannot tell my sister_. She’ll make it this huge thing the next time we’re all together, and I don’t need it right now, Wanda. I’m mixed up enough as it is.”

Wanda reaches out, tugging at the sleeve of Bucky’s t-shirt until he stops and faces her. 

“Hey,” Wanda says, pulling Bucky into a quick, tight hug. Bucky’s stiff for a moment, then relaxes into her embrace as she tells him, “It’s all right. I can keep a little secret for you just this once. You can tell me.”

Wanda releases him and Bucky takes a deep breath. 

“We didn’t have sex,” he says. “But we both fell asleep on a movie and I woke up in his arms this morning, and I maybe kind of freaked out a little bit.”

Wanda chuckles, gazing at Bucky fondly. “Boy, do you have it bad, Barnes.”

Bucky huffs out a laugh as he runs a hand through his long hair. 

“I kind of do, don’t I?”

* * *

 

Steve’s more than a little nervous about the fact that he hasn’t heard from Bucky all day given the other man’s reaction to waking up on top of him this morning. So, he can’t help the relieved exhale that careens up from his lungs when his phone lights up with a call from Bucky. 

“Hey,” Steve answers, unable to keep from grinning. “How was your day?”

Bucky’s answer floats over the line, and his voice is warm, but his tone is a little unsure as he says, “Hey, it was good. Yours?”

Bucky’s clearly been thinking too much. 

“It was nice,” Steve says as he stretches out on his bed. “Kind of cool to have a day to myself after the insanity of the last couple of days. I love my friends, but I need the occasional bout of me-time, you know?” 

“I do,” Bucky laughs, and he sounds surer now that he did a moment ago. “I, uh, I actually meant to ask you about your week. You just planning on staying in the area for the time being, or did you need to go back to New York?”

“Nah, I’m stayin’,” Steve answers. “Fury and the team figured they could go a week or two without me around. Besides, I haven’t had a real break in decades unless you consider my seventy year stint in the ice a vacation.”

Bucky snorts before saying, “Well, good, I’m glad you’re staying. Because, you may recall, I promised you some fun.”

“You know, I have a vague memory of that,” Steve grins. “What’d you have in mind?”

“You ever been roller skating?” Bucky asks.

It takes every fiber of Steve’s resolve not to crack up.

“Buck, I know I’m old,” Steve says. “But they _did_ have roller skates back when I was a kid.” 

Steve may have been able to keep from laughing, but Bucky doesn’t manage quite so well. 

“Shit, Rogers,” Bucky wheezes. “I really do manage to put my foot in my goddamn mouth an awful lot where you’re concerned. Didn’t mean it that way, I swear. I just didn’t want to suggest an activity you have no interest in.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve sasses the other man, rolling onto his stomach and propping himself up on his elbows. “A likely story, whipper snapper. But yeah, I think roller skating sounds fun. Just you and I, or?”

“I, uh,” Bucky stammers. “I was actually, uh, thinking of inviting Becca and Wanda along if that’s all right with you?”

Steve shakes his head as he teases, “Don’t trust me when we’re alone anymore?”

“Trust me, you’re not the only one I don’t trust,” Bucky replies, voice a little huskier than it was a moment ago, and fuck, Steve loves the sound of it. 

Bucky clears his throat before continuing. “And I just figured it’d be fun to include them, you know. Seems like you guys all hit it off pretty well. Look, I should go make dinner, but I’ll text you the details. Tomorrow night ok for you?”

“Tomorrow night’s perfect,” Steve agrees with a smile. “And Bucky?”

“Yeah, Steve?”

“You know inviting your sister and her girlfriend just makes this feel like a double date, right?”

“Good night, Steve.”

“Good night, Bucky.”

* * *

 

“Sometimes, I’m really disappointed that I didn’t get a chance to live through a time as strange as the seventies” Steve grins at Bucky as the two of them walk into Moonlight Rollerway. “This is definitely one of those times.” 

Bucky barks out a laugh as he surveys the rink. The carpeting in the entryway leading up to the snack bar area is black with rainbow squiggles and dots. A set of bleachers is, for reasons that have always been unclear to Bucky, covered in that same carpeting. 

Bright linoleum and plastic flooring and sets shine under the neon lights of the snack bar, which sells only the most sophisticated of sustenance: soft pretzels, shitty frozen pizza, popcorn and soft drinks.

“But then, I wouldn’t have met you, so I guess I can live with settling for a mere echo of the decade,” Steve teases as they make their way over to Becca and Wanda who are already lacing up their skates. 

Bucky rolls his eyes at the comment, but his heart is beating wildly in his chest. Because unless he’s misheard Steve, the blond has just admitted that meeting Bucky was worth missing out on living a normal life. 

He vaguely wishes he’d suggested bowling. At least most alleys serve beer, and he could use a drink. 

“There you are!” Becca exclaims. “What are you doing? Go get your skates and let’s go!”

“Forgive me, dear sister,” Bucky deadpans. “Here I was thinking I’d be polite and say hello to you and your girlfriend.”

“Shut up and get your skates, Barnes,” Wanda smirks. Bucky huffs out a laugh, grabbing Steve’s hand and tugging him toward the rental counter. 

“Huh,” Steve says as his eyes flick over the rows of beige-colored skates lined up in neat rows. “You know I didn’t think roller skates would change all that much over time, but these look a little different than the one we had back when I was a kid.”

Bucky grins as they wait in line. 

“I’m sure Captain America can handle some minor changes to roller skates, don’t you think?”

Steve shrugs. “I mean, I’d’ve fallen down no matter what, so I doubt it’ll make much of a difference one way or the other.”

Bucky is equal parts frustrated and amused as he turns his full gaze to Steve. 

“You said you could skate!”

Steve shakes his head, a wicked smirk curling across his lips. 

“No,” he says. “I said they had skates when I was a kid. I never said I was any good at skating or that I’d actually _been_ roller skating. Ma never had the money for skates, but I always wanted to try it. You’ll teach me won’t you?”

Steve’s looking at Bucky now, big blue eyes wide and innocent, lips pouting just enough to make the other man look like the human embodiment of a hopeful golden retriever. How the fuck is he supposed to say no to that?

“Yeah, Rogers,” Bucky sighs as the two of them reach the counter. “I’ll teach ya.”

* * *

 

“I think this might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” Becca grins over at Wanda as they skate side by side around the rink. “Aside from you, of course.”

“You flatterer,” Wanda chuckles, the back of her hand brushing against Becca’s before she entwines their fingers. Becca follows Wanda’s gaze back to Bucky and Steve who are making their way around the rink at a much, much slower pace. 

Turns out the fact that Steve’s a super soldier doesn’t mean jack when it comes to roller skating. 

Of course, Becca thinks it’s great because it means Steve’s holding on to her brother for dear life. Bucky’s facial expressions range from amused to fearful for Steve’s safety, and she can barely contain her happiness as the two of them stumble around the rink, laughing like a couple of middle schoolers. 

Becca does her level best to stay out of Bucky’s love life as much as she can. But she has a really, really good feeling about Steve Rogers.

* * *

 

“Shit,” Steve wheezes as he falls, pulling Bucky down with him. The two sit in a heap, laughing and trying to catch their breath as people skate past them, including an eight-year-old girl who looks at them as though they’re crazy.

It sends them both into a fresh fit of giggles.

Steve wants nothing more than to lean over to Bucky and kiss him senseless, but instead he begins to pull himself back up to his feet. Bucky’s quicker, and grabs Steve’s hands to help. The palms of Steve’s hands tingle with warmth as he smiles at Bucky. 

“You know, I think you’re really gettin’ it, Rogers.” Bucky chuckles as he releases Steve’s hands. Steve misses the contact immediately.

Steve shakes his head, shoving at Bucky’s shoulder playfully and nearly overbalancing in the process. The near-fall sets the pair off again, and Steve can feel tears building in his eyes, he’s laughing so hard. 

He can’t remember the last time he’d laughed so much. 

The two are still standing still when the lights dim and the music slows. Steve gazes around the rink curiously as people pair up, clasping hands together and skating close. He shoots Bucky a questioning glances. 

Steve doesn’t miss the blush on Bucky’s cheeks when he says, “Couples’ skate.”

“Oh,” Steve replies, surprised by how shy he suddenly feels. “We can, uh, sit this one out if you want? Grab a snack?”

Bucky exhales a laugh before grabbing Steve and tugging him along slowly.

“Been holdin’ hands for the better part of an hour anyway, Steve,” Bucky says. “Might as well keep tryin’ to teach you unless you really are hungry.”

“No,” Steve says, resolutely ignoring how breathy his voice sounds. His heart swells as Bucky’s grip tightens just a little bit. “No, this is good.”

* * *

 

Bucky flops onto his couch later that night, completely exhausted, and yet lighter than he’s felt in ages. He figures it was the near-constant giggling. There’s something about a night full of laughter that always relaxes him. 

Bucky closes his eyes, replaying the evening. Steve’s hand in his own, warm and firm and _right_. His deep belly laugh every time he fell. The way his beautiful blue eyes shone with affection every time they’d met Bucky’s.

Bucky really doesn’t have a fucking prayer when it comes to Steven Grant Rogers.

* * *

 

_Free for lunch?_

Bucky smiles down at the text he gets from Steve on Thursday morning, trying mightily to ignore the butterflies fluttering in his stomach as he responds.

_Much as I would love to, trying to get to Burbank and back during my lunch hour would be physically impossible._

Bucky goes back to viewing some of the footage they’d shot last weekend, completely engrossed in Steve’s easy manner and dominance throughout most of the matches. 

His cell buzzes with another message from Steve.

_I’m actually in LA. Didn’t have much to do today, so I figured I’d get some sight-seeing in._

Bucky responds immediately. 

_Yeah, let me know where you are, and I’ll try to find a restaurant nearby and meet you there, all right?_

Ten minutes later, Bucky’s grabbing his wallet and keys and heading out the door. He reminds himself that this is just lunch – not a date – as he straddles his bike and takes off.

* * *

 

“Do you know how to surf?”

Bucky gazes evenly at Steve as the blond bites into a chicken sandwich, amusement dancing in his pretty blue eyes as he swallows.

“Steve, I grew up in Southern California,” Bucky grins, leaning back in his chair. Steve can’t help a reluctant smirk as he watches the other man, admiring the way the afternoon sunlight glints against his dark hair. It’s braided back away from Bucky’s face today, and Steve wants to run his fingers through it, make a real mess of it while making a real mess of Bucky…

“It’s basically a requirement to at least attempt to learn how to surf out here,” Bucky continues, jolting Steve from his less-than-appropriate thoughts. 

Steve clears his throat in an effort to keep his voice under control before speaking.

“So, that’s a yes then,” Steve replies sardonically as he rolls his eyes. Bucky laughs and nods.

Steve smiles wide as he pops a fry into his mouth. 

“Good, because I want to learn,” he explains. “And I figure since you were such a great roller skating teacher that you’d be just the guy for the job. If you have the time, that is.”

There’s a light flush coloring Bucky’s cheeks that Steve finds positively adorable as he answers, “Uh, yeah, I can do that, Steve. I actually have a day off Sunday, so if you’re still here-”

“Definitely,” Steve interrupts with a smile and a nod as he bites into a cherry tomato, eyes closing in pleasure as he munches. “Win or lose on Saturday, I’m gonna stay a few more days, at least. So, Monday definitely works for me.”

* * *

 

Bucky’s trying to figure out how the fuck he’s going to deal with Steve Rogers in a wetsuit first thing in the morning when Steve asks, “By the way, what are you doing tonight?”

Bucky blinks as they step out of the restaurant and into the bright afternoon, a warm breeze ruffling Steve’s hair. Bucky’s fingers itch to find out if it’s as soft as it looks. 

“Uh,” Bucky says. “I was gonna head home after work, maybe order in Indian food or Chinese or something. Why?”

Steve’s eyes are focused squarely on the ground as he digs the toe of his sneaker at the sidewalk. He looks bashful as hell, and god, but it’s so cute Bucky might burst. 

“Well,” Steve replies, voice a little bit hesitant. “I, uh, kinda wanted to visit Disneyland? But I feel like it’d be more fun with somebody else. So, I was wondering if you might want to come with me?”

Bucky barks out a laugh because an invitation to the happiest place on earth from Captain America was not at all what he was expectingwhen he woke up this morning. 

“Shit, I haven’t been to Disneyland in years,” Bucky smiles, gratified when Steve’s eyes meet his own, brimming with hope. “Yeah, I think that’d be fun. I mean, you can’t come to California and _not_ visit Disneyland. And it is usually a more enjoyable experience when you go with a friend.”

The smile on Steve’s face is warm and open and beautiful, and Bucky needs to watch himself before he falls in love with it. 

“Awesome,” Steve replies. “I’ll, uh, I’ll meet you there tonight?”

Bucky nods, telling Steve that he’ll text when he’s on his way. 

It’s a genuine struggle to tamp down his enthusiasm for the rest of the day, but Bucky manages it.

* * *

 

“You look like such a tourist, Steve.”

Steve looks over at Bucky, grinning widely when he sees the other man’s eyes are focused on the mouse ears atop his head. He’d gone with the Sorcerer Mickey ears considering he’d loved Fantasia when it had come out. He’d managed to scrape together enough money to see it in theater three times, he’d loved it so much.

“I _am_ a tourist, Bucky,” Steve insists gleefully as they stroll through the park. The early evening air is warm and scented with the smell of foods from various vendors, a light breeze is blowing, and Steve can’t think of a more pleasant way to spend an evening. 

Bucky snorts as the two of them make their way over to the line for Splash Mountain, and Steve feels a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Steve teases. “Are you embarrassed to be seen with a tourist?Does that hurt your native Californian cred or something?”

Bucky laughs so hard at that, he doubles over, and Steve’s pretty sure he’ll never get tired of that sound. Especially if he’s the one making Bucky laugh.

“Sorry,” Bucky gasps as he tries to catch his breath. “Sorry, it’s just – did you just say _cred?_ Did I really hear Captain America say that?”

Steve just rolls his eyes, unable to mask a smile. 

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s impolite to make fun of your elders, Buck?”

Bucky snickers, shakes his head and pushes Steve forward gently as the line begins to move. 

“Terribly sorry, Captain,” Bucky replies. “Won’t happen again, I assure you.”

* * *

 

Bucky cracks up as soon as the two of them step off theride. 

“Your _face_ , Steve,” Bucky cackles. “Oh my god. That was the best. You’ve jumped out of planes before for god’s sake!”

Steve’s blushing, but it doesn’t look like he’s annoyed by Bucky’s antics. Which is great because Bucky’s pretty sure he couldn’t stop laughing about Steve’s reaction to the nearly-fifty-foot drop they’d just experienced if he tried.

“Oh, come on,” Steve chuckles. “You’ve probably ridden Splash Mountain a million times. This was my first time! And it looked like we were going to hit the damn briar patch as we dropped!”

This does nothing except send Bucky into a fresh wave of giggles. When he manages to get control of himself, Steve’s arms are crossed and his eyes are narrowed, but a smirk plays at his lips. 

“You done?” Steve asks, tone betraying his amusement. 

“For now,” Bucky grins. “But we’re _so_ buying that photo.”

Turns out two copies of the picture are a little pricier than Bucky thinks appropriate, but the comically shocked expression on Steve’s face as they’d dropped is absolutely worth every goddamn penny.

* * *

 

On Saturday, Steve rolls into the studio and absolutely dominates four of the five matches. The last game is a narrow win for Steve, but he manages to defeat a college professor from Vermont by $2,000, increasing his winnings to just under $210,000.

To say Bucky is somewhat stunned is something of an understatement. Sure, he’d expected Steve to continue doing well. But a ten-game winning streak? He can barely contain his excitement for the other man. 

Steve shoots a grin at Bucky as they walk back to his green room after the final game. 

“Guess we’ll have even more time for surf lessons now that I’m staying on another full week, huh?”

“Guess we do,” Bucky replies, trying to ignore the way his stomach flips at the affection he sees in Steve’s eyes.

* * *

 

Bucky picks Steve up the next morning, two surfboards strapped to the top of the old hatchback that mostly just sits in his garage unless the weather’s bad or he wants to catch a few waves.

Steve seems a bit sleepy as he sides into the passenger seat, blue eyes blinking lazily as he smiles at Bucky. 

Steve looks incredibly soft, Bucky thinks, in a pair of gray sweats and a matching hoodie. He feels vaguely guilty about getting Steve up and out so early, but reminds himself that _Steve’s_ the one who wanted to learn to surf as he makes the drive to the beach.

“You ready to fall down a lot?” Bucky grins as the two of them walk across the sand, the Pacific sparkling before them. 

Steve chuckles, sets his borrowed surfboard down, and shucks his sweats to reveal a skintight, navy wetsuit that hugs every inch of his body. 

Bucky’s mouth does not drop open at the sight. He’s just yawning, that’s all. It’s early.

Steve smirks as though he knows precisely what’s going on in Bucky’s head. 

“I think I can handle it.”

Despite the fact that Steve in a wetsuit is _exactly_ as impossible to handle as Bucky assumed it would be, he does what he thinks of as an admirable job of keeping his shit together. 

Even if Steve _does_ catch him staring on more than one occasion.

As uncoordinated as Steve had proven to be on roller-skates, the blond seems rather at home on a surfboard. 

Bucky teaches him the basic movements he’ll need to know before they enter the water. It takes Steve a while to master the pop up, but given the sly grin on his face every time he asks Buck to show him how to properly arch his back, Bucky’s pretty sure Steve’s got a handle on it. 

“You know,” Bucky huffs out a laugh as his hands ghost along Steve’s sides. “I think you already have the hang of this and you’re just takin’ advantage of the situation.”

Steve gasps in faux outrage, eyes sparkling with amusement as he looks over his shoulder at Bucky. 

“First of all, how dare you,” Steve begins, unable to completely keep his giggles at bay. 

Bucky waits a moment to see if Steve’s going to continue, and when he doesn’t asks, “And second of all?”

“Oh, I didn’t have a second point,” Steve quips cheerfully as he repositions himself and executes the pop up in one smooth motion, a challenge in his eyes as he smiles at Bucky. 

“All right, hot shot, let’s see how you do in the water, then,” Bucky teases, grabbing his board and heading for the ocean. 

“Hey,” Steve says, his gentle fingers brushing along Bucky’s shoulder. “All kidding aside, thank you for doing this. It’s really cool of you.”

Bucky laughs as the two of them splash forward and clamber onto the board. 

“You’re welcome, Steve,” he says. “Now let’s see how you do.”

Steve doesn’t always manage to get himself upright once they do venture into the waves, but he’s a sight better than most beginners Bucky’s seen in the surf. 

“Told you,” Steve grins as they drive back to Burbank later that afternoon, a sly smile gracing his features. “You’re a really good teacher. I bet you could teach me just about _anything_.”

Bucky decides that for his sanity’s sake, he’s going to ignore the loaded meaning behind _that_ particular sentiment as well as the mischievous glint in Steve’s eyes. 


	9. A Fucking Crazy Hope (Or, literally everyone wants these two to get together)

They fall into an easy rhythm over the next week. 

Bucky, with no prompting whatsoever from Steve, modifies his work hours just a pinch so that they can continue their morning surf lessons. 

“Told ‘em my neighbor went on vacation and couldn’t get her dog walker to do mornings because his schedule was too busy,” Bucky shrugs as he explains. “I’m pretty sure my boss likes dogs more than people, so it worked like a charm.” 

Steve tries and mostly succeeds at not letting the fact that Bucky is altering his schedule to spend time with him go to his head. 

_Mostly._

In addition to the surf lessons, there are a couple of lunches together, a movie night at Becca and Wanda’s place, and a Dodgers game. 

Bucky looks decidedly pleased with himself as he holds up the tickets while he drives them to the beach on Thursday morning. 

“I know it’s last minute, and that they’re not from Brooklyn anymore,” Bucky grins. “But they’re damn good this year, and Chase Utley’s a certified babe. So I thought maybe you might wanna go check out the game.”

It’s a genuine struggle not to lean over and kiss Bucky breathless, but Steve manages it.

“Yeah,” Steve chuckles. “Yeah, I think that’s a great idea. Thank you, Bucky.”

And before he can think about it, Steve’s leaning over and placing a quick peck to Bucky’s cheek. The way Bucky flushes makes the glare that Steve receives absolutely worth it.

* * *

 

When Steve gets back to his hotel room after the game, he checks a voicemail he’d received from Tony on the way back from the ballpark. 

“Capsicle!” Tony’s effusiveness is contagious even over the phone and Steve grins. “Good news, I got the all clear to fly myself, Pepper and a very special guest out to see your taping this weekend. We’ll probably get in sometime around five tomorrow, so be prepared to do dinner in LA. And feel free to bring _whoever_ you’d like.”

From the teasing tone, it’s clear that Tony wants Steve to bring Bucky. He makes a mental note to text the other man tomorrow morning and see if he wants in. Sure, Tony’ll probably embarrass the hell out of them both, but they’ll get a great free meal out of the deal. 

Since it’s late, Steve sends Tony a quick text.

_Looking forward to seeing you, Pep and your “special guest” tomorrow. Text me when you take off and land, and let me know where I should meet you all for dinner._

Steve plugs his phone in to charge, and then begins getting ready for bed, thoughts of Bucky occupying the majority of his headspace.

* * *

 

Bucky readily agrees to grab dinner with Steve and company on Friday night (“With Stark’s taste, I’d be a fool to say no,” he’d laughed), which is good because Steve’s a little intimidated as he makes his way into Perch. 

It’s not excessively grandiose - in fact, it’s substantially more relaxed than Steve has expected. But he doubts he’ll ever grow out of feeling vaguely out of his element in fairly sophisticated places like this restaurant.

Cozy seating areas are scattered around the tiled patio, along with floor plants adorned with tiny white lights. A breathtaking view of Los Angeles greets Steve as he looks out across the rooftop. 

For all his ostentatious bluster, Tony really does know how to find nice places where most people can feel largely at ease. Steve can give him that much. 

_There’s not really a dress code,_ Tony had texted Steve earlier that day. _But you should wear that suit we got you at Barney’s._

Steve had texted Bucky asking his opinion on whether or not Tony’s joking about the suit.

_It’s not necessary,_ Bucky responds. _But I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to seeing you in a suit, Rogers._

So, Steve wears it because, really, who is he to deny Bucky such a simple request? 

He’s glad he does.

One, because Bucky’s sharp inhale when he sees Steve is absolutely the best ego boost he’s had in weeks. He’s having a similar reaction to seeing Bucky, whose simple ensemble of tight black jeans, a white t-shirt and a black blazer is simply mouthwatering.

And two, because it turns out that the special guest Tony had mentioned is none other than the delightful saleswoman who’d helped Steve pick out said suit.

“Bonnie!” Steve exclaims when she, Tony and Pepper walk out onto the rooftop. “Well, if this isn’t the nicest surprise! How are you?”

Bonnie beams up at Steve as he takes her hand and kisses it, a light blush coloring her cheeks. 

“I’m doing wonderfully, Captain,” Bonnie replies. “I’m so glad to be able to see you compete this weekend and to get to spend some time out and about. How have you been?”

“I’ve been well, Bonnie,” Steve says, gesturing toward Bucky. The brunet steps forward, a tentative smile on his face. Steve addresses both Bonnie and Pepper as he says, “I’d like you to meet my friend, Bucky. I’m sure Tony’s mentioned him, Pep.”

Pepper shakes Bucky’s hand quickly, smiling. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Bucky,” she says, then turns her attention to Steve. “And yes, Tony _mentioned_ Bucky.”

The way she says it makes Steve think Tony did a little more than mention Bucky. He shouldn’t be surprised, he supposes. 

Bonnie’s dark eyes appraise Bucky carefully as she smiles and extends her hand. 

“My, my, aren’t I lucky?” Bonnie quips coyly as they shake hands. “Dining with so many handsome men.”

From the way Steve’s face feels, he’s guessing it’s about as red as Bucky’s is right now.

“And of course it’s an honor to be sharing a meal with the famous Pepper Potts,” Bonnie smiles, taking Pepper’s arm and leading her to a table. The three men follow.

“I have a feeling this is going to be just _delightful_ ,” Tony smirks.

* * *

 

Tony may have been teasing, but he’s right. The evening _is_ delightful as far as Bucky’s concerned. 

Bonnie and Pepper are two of the nicest women Bucky’s ever met, and Tony is in high spirits as the five of them enjoy some cocktails and hors-d’oeuvres before the meal. Bucky limits himself to just two drinks - he doesn’t have Steve’s metabolism and he needs to be clear-headed for work tomorrow. 

Bucky’s not entirely silent during their meal, but he does tend to just sit back and listen to the conversation swirling around him. He doesn’t mind this in the least. Bucky gets to hear Tony’s stories about growing up with Howard Stark, a man whose intelligence Bucky has always admired. He learns about Pepper’s upbringing and her somewhat unorthodox (though clearly well-earned) path to the top of Stark Industries. 

But it’s Bonnie who steals the show. Bonnie, who ran away from home at seventeen, traveling to Paris to pursue a dream of working in the fashion industry. A dream of which her parents hadn’t approved. 

“Good Irish Catholic girls like me,” Bonnie smiles. “We were supposed to get married young and have big families. And many of my friends ended up doing just that, and they were happy and I was happy for them. But I wanted something different.”

They learn about Bonnie’s time as an assistant to a moderately famous French designer. About how she’d eventually left that job and opened up a boutique, selling her own designs as well as those of her friends. About the sensitive French photographer she’d hired for advertising shoots and had ended up marrying. 

“Henri was divine,” Bonnie sighs dreamily as she pushes the dish that had contained her chocolate pot de creme to the side. “And he’d always wanted a chance to see the States, perhaps to live there. So, a few years into our marriage we moved to New York. He opened his own photography studio and I ran it for him. We were a good team right up until he passed away.”

Bucky notes the touch of sadness that’s crept into the older woman’s voice and reaches out to place a hand atop hers. 

“I’m sorry for your loss, Bonnie,” Bucky says. “You’re lucky you found each other. Not everybody gets that kind of love, you know?”

“Thank you, Bucky,” Bonnie replies, her voice soft and warm. “And we were lucky. So lucky.”

When Bucky’s eyes meet Steve’s, the intensity in the other man’s gaze leaves him utterly breathless. 

He wonders if Steve’s hope in this moment is the same as his own: That maybe, just maybe, _they’ll_ be lucky too.

A fucking crazy hope, Bucky thinks, but it’s there regardless.

* * *

 

Pepper’s in town for a conference, so she’s unable to attend the taping. Which is fine with Tony, since it gives him a chance to pick Bonnie’s brain. He’d already had the opportunity to see what Pepper thought about Steve and Bucky’s dynamic the night before.

“Oh, they’re both completely smitten,” Pepper had laughed as she’d toed off her heels. “Anyone with eyes could see that. Do you think we were that obvious before we go together?”

“Probably,” Tony had chuckled, tugging the redhead toward the bedroom.

Bonnie, Tony finds the next day, has a very similar opinion. 

“Yes, I think those two will get on just fine when all this _Jeopardy_ business is over,” Bonnie says as a car takes them to the studio for filming. “Of course, the distance will be a challenge, but you can see it in the way they look at each other, the way they speak to each other, the way they make each other laugh. All those two need is a little bit of time.”

Tony couldn’t agree more. He and Cap sometimes butt heads - two very strong personalities in close proximity can sometimes be tricky - but he genuinely wants their leader to live as happy and as normal a life as possible. Steve deserves that after everything he’s done for them and all he’s been through.

* * *

 

Steve has an incredibly hard time keeping a smile at bay as a chant of his name starts up about fifteen minutes before the taping of the next episode is set to begin. Mainly because he’s got a damn good idea of who’s started it.

For such a sweet older lady, Bonnie’s turning out to be a hell of a rabble rouser. 

It probably doesn’t help that she and Tony are completely unsupervised out there in the audience. 

“Folks, folks,” Bucky raises his voice to be heard above the crowd. Steve doesn’t miss the amusement in his tone. “Come on, now, we’re starting soon and we’ll need quiet on the set, all right? I know it’s very exciting, but please. The sooner things calm down, the sooner you’ll get to watch a great taping, all right?”

It takes another minute or two, but Bucky finally manages to get the audience to settle down. 

“You know, Rogers,” Bucky murmurs as he checks Steve’s mic and buzzer a few minutes later. “You and your friends are really nothin’ but trouble.”

Steve snickers before whispering, “I think maybe you like a little trouble now and again, Barnes.”

Bucky smirks before replying, “Hell, maybe I do,” before he saunters off to finish getting ready for filming.

* * *

 

The first four matches are all fairly close, but Steve manages to keep his lead in each Final Jeopardy round. Of course, Bucky’s chest grows tighter with every successive game filmed. Because he knows this can’t last forever. Steve’s winning streak will end, and then he will go back to New York. 

And as much as Bucky wants to believe that those 3,000 miles won’t get in the way, he can’t quite bring himself to do so. Not completely anyway. 

The fifth match has Bucky’s heart beating double time and his stomach flipping nervously. A young librarian from Kentucky named Caroline is giving Steve a run for his money, easily sweeping several categories in Double Jeopardy and heading into the Final Jeopardy round with a lead of $6,000 over the super soldier. 

For the first time since his initial game on _Jeopardy_ , Steve looks both frustrated and nervous. The challenger’s lead isn’t insurmountable, but it’s certainly going to be a risky bet if Steve wants to win. 

“And again, our final category is nineteenth century sports,” Trebek’s cultured voice rolls through the studio, and Bucky’s suddenly a little dizzy. He hopes like hell that Steve’s bet the majority of his $13,000 and that he’ll answer correctly.

“Here’s the clue,” Trebek says. “This steed, the winner of the first Kentucky Derby in 1875, shares a name with an ancient Greek statesman and a company that produces guitars.”

Bucky waits, reminding himself to inhale and exhale as the contestants scribble down their answers.

* * *

 

Steve sort of wants to tear his hair out at the moment. 

He knows the answers to most of the questions Caroline answers correctly; the librarian is simply beating him to the buzzer. Her drawl may be slow, Steve thinks, but her thumb is not. And neither is the young woman’s mind; she’s a goddamn repository of information varying from pop culture to science and from literature to current events. 

_This might be the end of the line for me,_ Steve thinks as he writes down his wager for Final Jeopardy” $13,000. 

He guesses he’s mostly OK with losing, as long as Bucky doesn’t back out on the date he’d promised Steve.

And then Alex reads out the Final Jeopardy question.

Steve _knows_ this.

His small stature and poor health had precluded him from playing any sports as a child, but as he’d aged, he’d hoped that perhaps he could be a jockey some day. Steve had been told more than a time or two that he’d be uniquely suited to the sport if he could simply get healthy enough to ride.

Of course, that hadn’t been in the cards, but it hadn’t stopped Steve from developing a genuine love of horse racing. 

Steve figures there’s no way in hell a librarian from _Kentucky_ doesn’t know the name of the horse who’d won the first _Kentucky Derby_ , so he simply hopes that what amounts to betting the house on the ponies is enough to keep him in California just a little bit longer. 

Steve taps his fingers against his podium as the _Jeopardy_ theme plays, then stiffens once the music fades away. He does his best to ignore the sweat beading on his brow as their host begins speaking.

“All right, we’ll start with Kyle, our engineer from Erie,” Trebek says. “You wrote down Aristides, which is correct. And you wagered $5,000, bringing your total up to $15,600.”

Trebek’s gaze then turns to Steve.

_Please_ , Steve thinks. _Please let it be enough._

“Now, let’s see if our current champion answered correctly,” Trebek says as the answer appears on the front of Steve’s podium. “He did, and he wagered… all of his money bringing his total to $26,000! Steve, you are truly unafraid of taking a risk, but will it be enough for your streak as champion to continue?”

Steve holds his breath along with the studio audience as Trebek addresses Caroline.

“Caroline, your total was $19,200 at the end of the second round,” Trebek begins. “Let’s see if you keep your lead over Captain Rogers. Your answer was Aristides as well, and you wagered…”

Alex pauses as the total appears, and Steve’s heart is in his throat as he waits.

“$5,000, putting your total winnings at $24,200,” Trebek finishes as the studio audience erupts into applause. 

Steve thinks he might faint as Trebek smiles, “Which means Steve Rogers extends his win streak to 15 games and has now won nearly $300,000! Congratulations, Captain.”

Steve walks out to speak to Trebek and the other contestants in a daze. He shakes his head as he feels a tentative tap on his shoulder, and when he looks down, he sees Caroline smiling up at him.

“You’re a hell of a competitor, Rogers,” the young woman grins as she adjusts her glasses. “That was a lot of fun. Congratulations and thanks for a great match.”

Steve exhales a relieved laugh before shaking Caroline’s hand. “Thank you. I mean, you just about gave me a heart attack out there, but you’re right. That was a lot of fun.”

They make pleasant small talk for a few more minutes before a couple of producers collect the contestants and whisk them back to their green rooms. Steve thinks the only reason he’s still upright is because Bucky’s hand is resting between his shoulder blades as he guides Steve down the hall. 

Steve’s more than a little surprised when Bucky pulls him into a fierce hug the second they’re away from prying eyes, but he can’t say he’s not enjoying it. 

“Your tenure on this game show is going to fucking kill me, Steve,” Bucky huffs, and Steve fights back a shudder as Bucky’s warm breath tickles his neck. “But I’m glad you won.”

Steve finds himself tightening his grip on the other man and teasing, “Well, yeah, that’ll be another week of great ratings once these episodes air.”

“You’re a fucking moron, Rogers,” Bucky chuckles, the sound a little strangled in his throat. Bucky pulls back, and Steve’s surprised by the heat he sees in Bucky’s gray-blue eyes. And is it him, or is Bucky leaning in?

Their lips are just a hair’s breadth apart when a familiar voice sounds from the door.

“Hey, Buck- oh!” 

Steve looks up to see Scott Lang standing there, wide-eyed and slack-jawed as he takes in the scene before him. Bucky springs away from Steve as though the other man is on fire, face hard as stone as he looks over at Scott.

“What’s up, Scott?”

Scott’s clear surprise is morphing into what looks like delighted amusement, Steve thinks. He’s clearly doing his best to fight back a grin, and his voice sounds somewhat choked as he responds.

“Uh, we just had a question about somethin’ tech related, but it’s fine,” Scott says. “Don’t, uh, don’t worry about it right now. We’ll deal with it when you’re not _busy_.”

Bucky looks like he’s considering taking a swing at Scott before coolly replying, “No, I’ll come now.”

Bucky turns to Steve with an apologetic smile. “Congratulations, Steve. I’ll talk to you soon.”

And then Bucky’s striding out of the room. Steve collapses onto the couch, wondering how much more of this he can possibly take.

* * *

 

“Bucky,” Scott calls, watching his boss practically sprint down the hallway. “Hey, Bucky, wait a sec.”

Bucky does not wait. 

Scott exhales an exasperated sigh and then jogs to catch up with the other man, sneakers squeaking on the tile floor.

“Buck, come on,” Scott pleads. “Slow down a second and talk to me.”

Bucky rounds on him then, eyes narrowed. 

“Why, so you can get all the details and then sell me out?”

Scott staggers back a step, eyes wide with surprise as he nearly shouts, “What?!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Scott,” Bucky nearly growls. “Look, I’m not an idiot. You don’t move up unless I’m out. You’re always jokin’ about takin’ my job.”

Scott barks out a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, Bucky, _joking_. I don’t want your job.”

“Wait, what?”

“I don’t want your job,” Scott repeats himself. “Not like that. I mean, look, if you ever decided to leave the show, I would gun for your job in a heartbeat. But you’re a good boss, Buck, and you’re my friend. I’m not gonna sell you out for a goddamn title change. You don’t make _that much_ more than I do.”

Bucky’s shoulders sag in relief as he exhales deeply. “Shit, Scott, I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have taken out my stress on you. I kind of have a lot on my mind right now.”

Scott chuckles, clapping a hand to Bucky’s shoulder and steering him toward their control room. 

“Yeah, I kind of figured that much out on my own,” Scott replies. “Now lets you and I fix whatever our camera people are complaining about and then grab a beer, all right?”

The smile on Bucky’s face is grateful as he replies, “That sounds like the best idea of all time.”

Scott smirks. “I’ve been known to have a decent one from time to time.”

* * *

 

Hey, Bucky types out a text to Steve while Scott's in the men's room.  _I'm really sorry about earlier. Just wanted to let you know that I'm all right and that everything is ok. Scott's gonna keep what he saw under his hat._

Bucky fiddles with his phone, checking his email and social media accounts as he waits for Steve to text him back. It doesn't take long.

_ No worries, as long as you're ok. I'm gonna hit the hay, but I'll talk to you tomorrow, all right? Night, Bucky. _

Bucky responds in the affirmative, the tightness in his chest easing as he wishes Steve a good night. 

Scott's back a moment later, settling into the chair beside Bucky.

“So when the hell did this start?” Scott asks before taking a sip of his beer. “Are you guys like a thing?”

There aren’t many people around them in the bar – it’s too early in the evening for a real crowd to have descended on the place – but Bucky glances around furtively before answering anyway.

“No, we’re not a thing,” Bucky sighs. “I mean, I don’t know. It’s complicated, Lang. Steve kissed me the night of his audition, and I told him that I couldn’t get involved with him, but that we could go on a date once he’d finished up with the show. Told him we could hang out and get to know each other, so that’s what we’ve been doing.”

Bucky takes a deep pull from his beer before continuing. 

“Thing is, I didn’t expect the guy to win fifteen straight,” Bucky says. “Or that I’d end up liking him so damn much. I mean, yeah, he’s handsome and a really nice guy, but now I’ve got my damn hopes up. The fuck would Captain America want with a TV producer?”

Scott grins as he grabs a handful of peanuts from the small bowl to his right. “I mean, if the position I found you guys in is any indication…”

Scott lets his voice trail off and waggles his eyebrows, laughing when Bucky groans. 

“I fucking hate you,” Bucky snaps, but he’s clearly amused.

“You don’t,” Scott responds. “And maybe Steve just sees what we all see in you. You’re objectively a handsome dude. You’re funny and smart. You’re a good person. Plus, you guys clearly get along well if you’ve been hanging out over the last couple of weeks. Most people are just looking for somebody they like bein’ around, and I doubt Steve’s any exception just because he can, like, lift cars and shit.”

Bucky snorts, pounding himself on the chest as he tries not to spit out the sip of beer he’s just taken. 

“Thanks so much for your insight, Lang,” Bucky deadpans. “Really, what would I do without your sage wisdom?”

Scott smiles. “I don’t know, but I guess it’s a good thing you won’t need to find out.”


	10. I Want a Chance (Or, Bucky’s resolve finally crumbles)

Steve is exhausted. 

Tony had flown Bonnie back to New York on Sunday morning, but he’d decided to hang around for the rest of the week, apparently. 

“Pep’s here for that conference, you know?” Tony explains with a smirk. “Plus, the rest of the team’s gonna fly out for your next round of matches anyway, so I might as well just stay. Show you some real fun.”

It turns out that Tony’s definition of “real fun” is expensive clubs and bottle service and staying out way, way too late. Steve’s not all that surprised. 

Mostly, it’s amusing watching Tony in his element, but by the time Thursday evening rolls around, Steve has to beg off going out yet again. He lies and says his throat is feeling scratchy.

“Wouldn’t want to lose my voice before Saturday, you know?” Steve grins, chuckling as Tony shakes his head in disappointment.

“Fine,” Tony sighs, throwing his hands up in the air. “I guess Pep and I will just have to have a beautiful date night without you. Enjoy being a boring old man, Cap.”

The door to Steve’s hotel room is barely shut before he’s pulling out his cell and typing out a quick message to Bucky.

_Tony finally let me bail on the party scene tonight. You feel like being lazy and eating junk food and watching a movie?_

Steve sets the phone down beside him on the couch and just thinks for a moment. He and Bucky have chatted over the past couple of days, but between Bucky’s exceptionally busy work week and Steve’s ridiculous evenings courtesy of Tony Stark, they’ve barely seen each other over the last few days. A quick lunch on Monday and Bucky popping into a club for a couple of hours Wednesday night, and that had been it. 

Steve finds that he misses the other man, possibly more than he should. 

Bucky’s response comes quickly. _Sure. You wanna come over here? I’m actually in the middle of making dinner right now, and I have plenty of food for the two of us. It’s probably healthier than whatever you had in mind, but I do have ice cream for dessert._

Steve responds in the affirmative, setting out once Bucky has texted his address. It’s a pleasantly cool evening, so Steve jogs, making it to Bucky’s place in about five minutes. Steve stands outside for a moment, just observing.Bucky lives in a modest rancher painted a crisp light blue. The roof and shutters are slate gray.

For as simple and unassuming as the house is, the front garden is anything but. Brightly colored flowers bloom there, and while Steve only recognizes a handful of the plants, like the California poppy and the Cleveland sage, he can certainly appreciate the beauty of them all. 

Steve knocks, waiting patiently for his friend. 

“Jesus, you’re fast,” Bucky laughs as he opens his screen door a few moments later. He’s got his hair braided back away from his face again, and Christ, this man is going to kill Steve. He’s just too goddamn beautiful.

Steve smiles and shrugs as Bucky gestures him inside the house. He follows Bucky down the entry hallway and into the living room. It’s an open concept sort of a floor plan, Steve notes. The living room, dining room and kitchen all blend seamlessly together, no walls separating the areas. Plenty of windows give Bucky’s house a light and airy feel.

“You have a lovely home,” Steve tells Bucky. “And your garden is gorgeous. Do you do all of the planting and stuff or do you hire somebody to maintain it?”

Bucky grins over his shoulder as he heads toward the kitchen. Steve follows, settling onto a stool at the island in the middle of the room. 

“Me and Becca do it,” Bucky answers. “She and Wanda have an apartment, and she doesn’t have any place to garden so she helps me with it. My mom was real into it when we were kids, and she taught us everything we knew. Dad was terrible at it, but he always loved ma’s flowers.”

Steve smiles at that, “Your parents sound like great people.”

Bucky’s answering grin is sad and wistful.

“They were,” Bucky sighs. “They, uh, they died in a car accident about five years ago.”

Steve’s breath catches in his chest. “Jesus, Buck, I’m really sorry.”

Bucky shrugs, turning to stir a pot of what smells like marinara sauce. “Thanks, Steve. Becca and I still miss them, obviously, but it’s a little easier to carry it now. And we’ve got each other.”

Steve nods when Bucky turns to face him again. “You’re lucky you’ve got a sibling. I got by all right on my own when my ma passed, but it was hard.”

The sympathy Steve sees in Bucky’s eyes would probably rub him the wrong way if it were anybody else, but Steve knows Bucky gets it. All Steve feels right now is understood. 

“I’m sorry for your loss, Steve,” Bucky says. “Shouldn’t have had to bear it alone.”

Steve exhales a laugh, deciding to change the subject as he begins to tear up. He scrubs a hand across his eyes quickly, and if Bucky notices, he lets it go. Steve’s incredibly grateful for that.

“Smells good,” Steve says as he leans over the island, elbows resting there as he places his chin in his hands. “What are we havin’?”

“Spaghetti and meatballs,” Bucky replies. “I usually cook way too much pasta, and tonight is no exception, so I hope you’re hungry.”

Steve laughs, some of the tension easing from his body as he says, “Bucky, my metabolism is pretty ridiculous. I think I’ll be able to put away your spaghetti just fine.”

* * *

 

They’re sitting on Bucky’s couch watching _American Graffiti_ after dinner when Bucky feels Steve’s head hit his shoulder. He just manages to bottle up a giggle when he hears Steve begin to snore softly.  

Bucky turns his head slowly, shifting only slightly to get a glimpse of the other man.

Steve’s face is smooth and youthful in sleep, and Bucky can still hardly believe that this man is here in his house. That Steve apparently finds Bucky interesting enough to keep spending time with him. 

The truth of the matter is that Bucky is a little bit terrified of Steve Rogers. He’s afraid of his warmth and his openness and his kindness. He’s scared of the way that Steve has already become such a presence in his life, of the way he’s carved out a space for himself inside of Bucky’s heart. 

More than anything, Bucky’s terrified of letting himself go and allowing himself to really feel and be vulnerable with Steve. Because if he does that, Bucky knows he’s going to fall in love with this man. And it’s been quite a while since Bucky’s let himself do something as foolhardy as that. 

Steve stirs against Bucky’s side, blue eyes blinking open lazily a moment later.

“Shit, I dozed off, didn’t I?” Steve smiles, voice lower and raspier than it usually is. “Sorry.” 

“S’okay,” Bucky whispers as he gazes at Steve. The other man’s eyes are hazy and his lips are parted as he meets Bucky’s stare. Steve’s cornsilk hair is a little bit mussed from where he’d laid his head against Bucky’s shoulder. Suddenly, it’s all too much to resist and Bucky’s moving on instinct, closing the gap between their lips.

Steve makes a surprised sound against Bucky’s mouth, but he gets with the program immediately. His hands are in Bucky’s hair a moment later, tugging at the tie he’d used to pull it back so that it falls loose, and then running gentle fingers through the strands. Bucky moans softly at the sensation. 

Bucky’s mind is screaming at him to pull back, that this is a terrible idea. Not only because it’s against _Jeopardy’s_ protocol, but because there is no way in hell that he deserves someone like Steve. 

His body has a different agenda. This probably has something to do with the nearly four weeks of desire that’s had the opportunity to build up inside of him.

Bucky scrambles into Steve’s lap, wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck and deepening the kiss as Steve’s hands settle on his hips. Steve groans when Bucky’s tongue runs along his bottom lip, opening up so that Bucky can taste him properly. 

It’s all tomato sauce and garlic, but Bucky could give a fuck as Steve’s pelvis bucks up against his own, dragging a raspy gasp from his lungs as he breaks their kiss. 

“Fuck, Steve,” Bucky breathes as Steve’s lips begin working along his jawline and down his neck, teeth nipping at the skin along the way. Bucky should stop this, he should pull himself up and ask Steve to leave and take a cold shower to calm himself down. 

But then Steve’s pushing the thin material of Bucky’s t-shirt out of the way and sucking at his collarbone, and Bucky knows he’s a goner. He’s going to give in, and he’s probably going to regret it, but damn it if he isn’t going to enjoy every fucking second of this while it lasts. 

“Bedroom,” Bucky pants, yelping when Steve stands abruptly, strong arms supporting Bucky’s full weight. Bucky wraps his legs around Steve’s waist, staring up at him in awe. 

“You’re really strong,” Bucky murmurs as Steve crosses the threshold and deposits Bucky gently on the bed. 

“Yeah, that’s kind of what Howard and the other scientists were goin’ for,” Steve smirks, and Bucky can’t help but burst out laughing. Steve’s eyes widen, but the laughter is apparently contagious because then Steve’s crawling into Bucky’s bed, giggling like a little kid. 

The two of them lie side by side, catching their breath. When Bucky turns his head, Steve’s smiling at him like he hung the goddamn sun in the sky. 

And then Steve’s mouth is back on his, and Bucky is on _fire_. Steve’s hands reach out, and Bucky rolls into his embrace, gripping the hard planes of Steve’s body as though his life depends on it. 

Their kisses and movements are languid and easy, as though they have all the time in the world. Maybe, Bucky thinks, they do. 

Christ, but he hopes so.

Steve flips them so that he’s hovering over Bucky, lips a hair’s breadth away as he asks, “You sure about this?”

Bucky pauses, considering. This is a hell of a risk, he knows that. He knows that if anyone finds out about this, he could very well be out of a job.

_Fuck it_ , he thinks as he stares up at Steve, completely overwhelmed by how much he wants the other man. _I can keep my mouth shut._

“Yes.”

* * *

 

Steve’s more than a little confused when Bucky says “yes,” then pushes lightly against his chest until Steve is backing off.  

“Relax,” Bucky chuckles. “I still want you.”

Bucky sits up facing Steve, and then pulls him in for a quick, gentle kiss. Bucky laughs when Steve chases his lips.

“Easy, tiger,” Bucky teases. “You’ll get whatever you want, I promise. But I need to know what I’m working with here. You ever done thisbefore?”

“Yes,” Steve says, looking a little shy as he admits, “Never with a man, though. I mean, not that I’ve _never_ done anything with a man, but my options were kind of limited with my health issues before the war, and then during the war we didn’t really have time, and since I got out of the ice, things have been kind of busy, missions and all, and-”

Bucky interrupts, placing a finger gently to Steve lips. An encouraging smile spreads across his handsome face as he says, “Breathe, Steve. We’ll take it slow. I just want to make sure that I make it good for you.”

And then Bucky’s kissing him again. It’s still gentle, but it’s firmer and more passionate this time around. Steve melts into it. Bucky’s hands are everywhere, soft and exploratory as he pushes Steve’s t-shirt up and runs his fingers up Steve’s abdomen. Steve lifts his arms, allowing Bucky to pull the garment over his head. 

He can’t help but preen just a little bit with the way Bucky stares. 

“Jesus,” Bucky swallows. “You’re fuckin’ perfect, Rogers.”

Steve sucks in a harsh breath as Bucky leans forward to kiss and mouth at one of his pectorals, tongue peeking out to flick at a hardening nipple. Steve whimpers, and he’d be embarrassed about it if it didn’t have Bucky groaning against his skin and pushing him back against the bed.

“Fuck, Steve,” Bucky breathes as his mouth moves against Steve’s chest, kissing and nipping until Steve is bucking up against him and moaning. “Make such pretty sounds, baby.”

Steve flushes even further at the pet name, fighting for air as Bucky continues to take him apart. Bucky continues downward, peppering Steve’s skin with kisses until he reaches Steve’s jeans. He grabs the waistband, waiting for a nod from Steve before unbuttoning and unzipping the garment. 

Bucky tugs the jeans down Steve’s legs, never breaking eye contact. And Jesus, Steve can barely breathe because Bucky looks like he wants to eat Steve alive. 

Steve’s breathing quickens as Bucky slides downward between his legs, breath ghosting over his still-clothed and rapidly hardening erection. Bucky bypasses it for the time being, electing to torture Steve with kisses and soft bites to his inner thighs.

“Bucky,” Steve keens as Bucky’s tongue glides closer to where he desperately needs attention. “Please.”

Bucky shoots a wicked smirk at Steve before mouthing at his cock through the fabric of his boxer briefs. Steve’s back arches and he clutches the sheets tightly as he groans. 

“Jesus, Bucky,” Steve rasps, chest heaving as he looks down. Bucky’s fingers find the elastic waist of his underwear and tug downward, exposing him to the cool air of Bucky’s bedroom. 

“You want me to suck your cock, Steve?” Bucky asks, a wicked grin lighting up his face. “Because I sure would like to.” 

Steve barely has a chance to nod in approval before Bucky’s swallowing him down.

* * *

 

Bucky savors the weight of Steve’s cock against his tongue, the musky, salty taste of him.He’s been aching to get his hands on Steve for weeks now, and his only goal in this moment is to absolutely wreck the other man. 

Bucky begins bobbing along Steve’s shaft. He keeps his pace slow and doesn’t suck hard; he wants Steve to be a fucking mess before he comes, and he knows he needs to build Steve up for that to happen.

“Oh, god,” Steve whines as Bucky’s tongue follows the curve of a prominent vein before he sinks back down, letting Steve hit the back of his throat for just a moment before pulling back and sucking gently at the tip. Bucky’s own cock throbs as Steve’s back arches and he threads the fingers of one hand through Bucky’s hair.

“Nnngh, Bucky!” Steve cries out as Bucky begin sucking a little harder and faster, tongue working Steve over. Bucky pays attention to the sounds Steve’s making, repeats motions when they make Steve shake and moan and whimper. 

“Bucky,” Steve gasps, tugging hard enough on Bucky’s hair to make him groan. He notes the way Steve shivers below him.

“Bucky, wait.”

Bucky pulls back quickly, eyes searching Steve’s face for any sign of discomfort. 

“You all right?” Bucky asks, holding Steve’s hips in a gentle grip as he waits for a response. 

Steve laughs, high and breathy. “I’m fuckin’ great, but you’re wearin’ way too many clothes right now and I want to kiss you.”

Bucky exhales an amused huff and tugs his t-shirt off. 

“Better?”

Steve’s smile is practically feral as he grabs one of Bucky’s arms and tugs him upward. 

“Much.”

* * *

 

Steve can feel Bucky smiling as their lips meet again. He cups Bucky’s face in his hands, kissing him deeply as Bucky settles his body over Steve’s. Bucky’s hands settle on Steve’s waist, and he shivers as the other man’s deft fingers trace patterns against his skin. 

The friction of Bucky’s jeans against Steve’s bare cock is equal parts delightful and frustrating and he groans as Bucky rocks his hips forward. 

“These need to go,” Steve huffs, tugging at the waistband and smiling when Bucky laughs. 

“Whatever you want, Steve,” Bucky breathes, moving to undo the button, and stopping short when Steve’s hands come to rest against his own. 

“Can I?” Steve asks, liking the way Bucky’s breath hitches. 

“Yes.”

They scramble around on the bed so that Steve’s in a better position to unbutton Bucky’s jeans and slide them and his boxers down his slender, well-muscled legs. 

“You’re beautiful,” Steve smiles down at Bucky, liking the flush that colors the other man’s body. 

“You too,” Bucky murmurs as he reaches up to brush Steve’s sweat damp hair from his brow. 

“I might be bad at this,” Steve says, struggling to maintain eye contact with Bucky. Because he knows that a few awkward fumbles with fellow soldiers under the cover of darkness have in no way prepared him for this. Bucky just shakes his head and grins.

“You’re already perfect,” Bucky tells him, and Christ, Steve’s heart is beating so fast it might fly out of his chest. “And like I said, we’ll go slow. Now, do me a favor and dig out the bottle of lube and one of the condoms I have sitting in that top dresser drawer.”

Steve’s trepidation must register on his face because Bucky leans up and places a quick kiss to his nose.

“Steve, it’s all right,” Bucky soothes. “Promise. Any time you’re not comfortable, you just tell me to stop, ok?”

Steve nods and then shifts, moving across the bed to get to the bottle of lube. 

“All right,” Bucky says, looking up at Steve through half lidded eyes. “You got a couple options here, Steve, and I’m fine with every one of them. One, you let me finish you with my mouth. Two, I use that lube and jerk us both off. Or three, you can fuck me.”

Steve’s mind whites out completely at that last option, mouth moving soundlessly as he tries to formulate some kind of answer. 

“Use your words, Steve,” Bucky chuckles. 

“I- I don’t,” Steve stammers, blushing furiously. “I mean, I’ve seen porn, I get the basics, but I don’t know if I-”

Bucky places a finger to Steve’s lips, a soft smile on his face.

“You don’t have to fuck me if you don’t want to,” Bucky says. “But if you _do_ , I can show you how. Up to you, all right?”

Steve nods, letting Bucky capture his lips in a sweet kiss that erases every ounce of his trepidation. 

“Ok,” Steve breathes when they part for air. “Show me.”

* * *

 

Bucky’s heart is beating double time as he coats his fingers with lube and then hands the bottle to Steve. He quickly positions himself so that he’ll have better access to his entrance. 

“Watch,” Bucky rasps, shuddering as he rubs a finger gently across the tight ring of muscle. Steve’s eyes rake over Bucky’s body, chest heaving as he watches Bucky slowly work a finger inside himself. 

“Just gotta take it slow and easy,” Bucky breathes. “One finger at a time.”

The way Steve’s watching him sets Bucky on fire, and before he knows it, he’s slipping a second finger into his hole and whining as he begins to thrust them in and out. Bucky does this for a few minutes, scissoring his fingers gently now and again before pulling both digits out. 

“Ok,” Bucky says, voice husky and dark. “Now you.”

Steve bites his lip as he coats his fingers quickly. He hesitates before pushing into Bucky’s tight heat. 

“Not gonna hurt me, Steve,” Bucky murmurs, grabbing Steve’s other hand and kissing his palm. “Go ahead.”

* * *

 

It takes Steve a little time to get the hang of it, but it's not too long before Bucky is a writhing, moaning mess, clutching at his bedsheets and begging Steve to enter him. 

Steve can’t deny the sense of pride he feels as he slides the condom over his cock and positions himself, edging forward gently until he’s completely sheathed inside Bucky. _He_ did this to Bucky. _He’s_ the one Bucky wants.

“Fuck,” Steve groans as he bottoms out, stilling and waiting for his body to adjust to the pressure around his cock and for Bucky to adjust to him. “Jesus, Bucky, you feel so good.”

Steve’s hips jerk forward of their own accord, and Bucky whimpers. 

“You too,” Bucky gasps. “All right, Rogers, you got the unfamiliar part down. Now, let’s see what you got, old man.”

Steve’s eyes narrow and a smirk curls across his lips. “Is that a challenge, Barnes?”

“You bet your ass it is,” Bucky grins cheekily up at him. 

It’s more than a little gratifying when that smile transforms into a wide ‘O’ as Steve pulls back, letting his cock drag along Bucky’s walls slowly, and then thrusts back in _hard_.

“Steve!” Bucky cries out, and then Steve is lost as the two of them move together in perfect tandem. 

“I’m not gonna last long,” Steve groans as Bucky begins arching up a few minutes later, meeting him thrust for thrust. “It’s been too long and you’re too good.”

“Close too,” Bucky gasps, fingers gripping Steve’s shoulders tight as he flips Steve onto his back. He guides Steve’s cock back to his hole and then sinks down slowly, rocking his hips as he does.

Steve watches transfixed as Bucky rides him, moving only when Bucky tries to take his own cock in hand. Steve bats him away and begins pumping, letting Bucky fuck his fist as he pounds upward. 

“That’s it,” Bucky moans as Steve twists his wrist, liking the way it makes Bucky shake. Bucky’s thighs tighten around Steve’s hips. He pumps Bucky’s cock harder. 

“Yes,” Bucky pants. “God, Steve yes, that’s it. Just like that, baby.”

Steve grins up at Bucky, heart beating wildly as he fights for air. Bucky’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, his skin glistening with sweat, his expression one of utter bliss and pleasure. Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of it. 

“Gonna come for me, Buck?” Steve asks.

Bucky groans, hands resting on Steve’s chest to give himself better leverage. “Yeah, honey, I’m almost there.”

Steve speeds up his strokes, and after another moment, Bucky’s keening as he comes across Steve’s stomach and chest. Steve feels his own orgasm slam into him as Bucky’s muscles clench around him. 

“Bucky,” Steve gasps out, hips thrusting erratically. “Jesus, _Bucky._ ” 

Once the two of them have caught their breath, Bucky pulls himself off of Steve’s cock and rolls out of bed. He walks into his bathroom without a word. 

For a moment, Steve’s apprehensive - has he done something wrong? - but then Bucky’s crawling back into bed with a damp washcloth in hand. 

Bucky gently cleans them both, then flops onto the bed, pulling Steve close. 

Steve drifts to sleep as Bucky fingers play with the fine hairs at the nape of his neck. Bucky places a kiss to his temple and then allows himself to doze off as well.

* * *

 

When Bucky wakes, it’s still dark and his digital clock reads 3:57 a.m. Steve, he’s relieved to find, is still snuggled against him, an arm thrown across his waist and his head on Bucky’s chest.

“Hi,” Steve whispers as he turns his head to meet Bucky’s gaze, humming contentedly as Bucky cards his fingers through Steve’s hair.

“Hi,” Bucky replies, grinning. “We should probably talk about what happened earlier, huh? That was really fuckin’ impulsive. I’m sorry.”

Steve snorts, leaning in to brush a piece of Bucky’s hair back away from his face. 

“Please never apologize for what just happened, Buck,” Steve says. “That was absolutely incredible. But yeah, I think you’re probably right. Don’t want you feelin’ conflicted about me and your job.”

Steve moves to roll off the bed, but Bucky’s hand shoots out to stop him. “Stay.” 

Steve nods, then remains silent as though he knows Bucky has more to say. Hell, he probably does; Steve’s a pretty perceptive guy.

“I’m kind of freaking out right now,” Bucky admits sheepishly. “This doesn’t feel real, you know?”

Steve nods again. “Can I tell you something?”

“Yes,” Bucky replies, watching several expressions play across Steve’s face. Fear. Doubt. Resolve.

“You kind of scare the shit out of me,” Steve says. 

Bucky barks out a laugh, rolling onto his back and turning his head so that they’re still eye to eye. _“I scare you?”_

Steve snickers, swatting at Bucky’s shoulder playfully.

“Yeah, Buck, you really do,” Steve says. “You know, before the serum, nobody really saw _me_. They saw a scrawny little guy with a big mouth. And after the serum, I was less a person and more a weapon. There was a woman – Peggy Carter. She saw me from the beginning. Not a skinny kid desperate to join the army before or a living battering ram after the serum. She just saw Steve.”

Bucky waits with baited breath because he has a feeling Steve’s about to say something important. He’s not wrong.

“I think you see me too,” Steve says so softly it’s almost a whisper. “I think you see Steve Rogers just as he is, and I think you like him. And that terrifies me because I’m not even a hundred percent sure who Steve Rogers is anymore. But I think bein’ around you is helpin’ me figure it out.” 

Bucky huffs out a slightly hysterical giggle. 

“Jesus, Rogers,” Bucky says. “How do you expect me to keep my hands to myself when you say shit like that?”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, his mischievous smile betraying the fact that he isn’t the least bit sorry at all. “But I just- I want you to know what I’m feeling. I trust you, Buck. And I know we live on opposite coasts and I have the weirdest goddamn job on the planet and there are a million reasons that you and I shouldn’t even bother trying to make this happen. I know we haven’t known each other all that long, but you make me feel alive. So, yeah, I’m fucking terrified. But I think feeling genuinely happy for the first time in a long time is worth facing that fear.”

Bucky resolutely ignores the tears pricking at the corners of his vision as he asks, “So what do you want?”

“I want a chance,” Steve replies. “I want that date you promised me. I want a bunch of them if we can swing it, and I want to see if you and I could maybe make something real work.”

And Jesus Christ, Steve is looking at Bucky with those big earnest eyes and the sweetest, most unsure smile Bucky has ever seen, and Bucky’s pretty goddamn sure he couldn’t deny this man a single thing at this moment. So, he figures he ought to just take the leap and be done with it.

“Steve,” Bucky says. “You remember when you first kissed me and I told you I’d be an idiot to turn you down in any other circumstances?”

Steve exhales a breathy laugh. “Yeah, I vaguely recall that.”

“Still stands,” Bucky says. “You’ll get as many goddamn dates as you want, as far as I’m concerned.” 

The smile on Steve’s face is beatific, and Bucky can’t help returning the grin. 

Fuck, Bucky thinks they might just have a shot.


	11. I’ve Come to Collect (Or, things start to fall into place

Steve’s going to throw the last game on Saturday if he doesn’t lose one of the first four match-ups during the next taping.

It’s a decision he makes as he runs gentle fingers through Bucky’s hair, which shines beautifully in theearly morning sunlight, and revels in the feeling of Bucky’s head on his chest. 

Bucky’s breath fans out across Steve’s skin, soft and warm, and Steve holds him a little tighter as a pleasant shiver rolls through his body. 

Steve can’t remember the last time he’d felt so at peace with a decision. Sure, throwing a game means less money for the charity. Ideally, some other contestant will bump him off. His luck’s got to run out sometime. 

But as Bucky’s eyes open and then crinkle as he smiles, Steve knows he needs a contingency plan. Because the fact of the matter is, he can’t keep masking his feelings for Bucky. It’s becoming physically impossible.

“Mmm, mornin’,” Bucky murmurs as his lips trail up Steve’s neck. Steve tilts his head downward, meeting Bucky’s questing lips with his own. 

“Mornin’, gorgeous,” Steve grins as they part a moment later. “Still feelin’ okay about what happened last night?”

Bucky grins as he rolls onto his back and then scoots so that he’s sitting up. 

“Yeah,” Bucky replies. “You?”

“I feel much better than okay about it,” Steve chuckles, pulling himself into a sitting position and reaching out to tuck a strand of Bucky’s hair behind his ear, then leans in and kisses Bucky again.

And sure, the morning breath isn’t ideal, but Steve finds he really doesn’t care as Bucky’s lips move languidly against his own. The fire from the night before is still there, but it’s smoldering rather than burning brightly, and Steve takes a moment to savor the quiet joy he feels in this moment. 

Bucky pulls back, his breathing a little quicker than usual, but still under control. 

“Much as I would like to spend all morning kissing you,” he grins. “I gotta get up and get ready for work.”

Steve hums, blue eyes sparkling with amusement as he cups Bucky’s face in his hands. 

“I don’t know, Buck, you’re a little flushed,” Steve teases. “Might have a fever. Maybe you need to call out sick so that you’re in top form for Saturday. Of course, I’ll stay and look after you. Nurse you back to health.”

Bucky giggles and shakes his head as Steve presses gentle kisses to his lips.

“Yeah, you’ll look after me,” Bucky rolls his eyes as he begins to inch off the bed. “Fuckin’ terrible influence, Rogers. You’re supposed to be the embodiment of American ideals like hard work, and here you are tellin’ me to play hooky so you can get luck-”

Steve tugs Bucky back, and their mouths meet again. The kiss gains steam, growing more heated as Steve runs his hands down Bucky’s body, and cupping his ass. Steve rocks his hips forward and Bucky groans at the sensation.

“I’m not callin’ out, Rogers,” Bucky murmurs between kisses. “But you can join me for a shower if you want.”

Steve definitely wants. So he does. 

His smile is smug as Bucky practically races out the door with still-damp hair, already twenty minutes late. 

Steve should probably feel guilty about that, but finds that he doesn’t. All he feels is happy.

* * *

 

“Oh my god,” Wanda hisses as she catches sight of Bucky at his desk, a lovesick smile on his face. She turns and shuts the door, then makes her way to a chair. She settles in, chin in her hands as she watches a blush color her boss’s face.

“You’re glowing,” Wanda teases. “Spill. Right now.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, but Wanda can tell he’s dying to tell someone what happened as he recounts the previous evening. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Wanda chuckles as Bucky explains how he’d been unable to help himself when Steve had looked up at him, all sleepy and soft. “Mr. Ethical himself is the one who initiated the kiss? I can’t believe my superior and mentor has turned out to be such a horrendous example.”

Bucky throws his hands up in exasperation, huffing, “Wanda, you didn’t _see_ him! He’s like the most kissable person on the planet when he first wakes up. He’s got this gentle little smile and his hair’s a ruffled and messy, and I just-”

Wanda laughs aloud at that, high and clear as she stands. “My god, Barnes, you’re doomed. Shall we take your sister to lunch and tell her the good news? We were planning on making you join us today anyway.”

Bucky groans, his head hitting the desk as he says, “God, I guess. Otherwise, I’ll just get an angry phone call from her about you finding out first, and blood is supposed to be thicker than water, and _blah, blah, blah_. So, if you could do me a solid and pretend you have no idea what happened and act surprised when I tell her, that would be great.”

Wanda smiles and nods before exiting the office. Her fingers itch to pull out her phone and call Becca, but she figures it’ll be more fun to wait. Besides, Bucky’s not the only one with good news to share.

* * *

 

“You’re what?!” Bucky exclaims, eyes widening at the sight of glinting metal and a sparkling gem on his sister’s left ring finger.

Becca giggles, gaze shooting to Wanda who’s simply beaming. “We’re engaged! Wanda proposed last night. I wanted to call you, but it was kind of late and we knew you wanted a quiet night in. Besides, we figured it’d be more fun to tell you in person, you know?”

Bucky’s standing a moment later, rounding the small table and tugging his sister up into a fierce hug. 

“Becks, I’m so happy for you,” Bucky says, doing his level best not to get too choked up. “Congratulations, baby sister.”

“Thanks, big brother,” Becca laughs, and it sounds a little watery. When Bucky pulls back, there are tears in Becca’s eyes. In an effort not to cry, Bucky turns to Wanda.

“I can’t believe you didn’t say a word this morning, you goddamn sneak,” Bucky laughs, as she moves to hug him. “Welcome to the family, sister. Not that you weren’t already part of it, but it’ll be nice to make it official.”

Wanda nods, a wide smile on her face as she says, “Yes, I think so too.Now, why don’t you tell Becca and me about the good news _you_ mentioned to me this morning?”

Becca’s dark eyes narrow as her gaze darts to her brother.

“Oh?” she asks, going for nonchalant and failing miserably. The three of them sit back down, and Becca’s fingers begin to tap across the table in an agitated manner. Bucky almost wants to draw it out because he’s always found Becca’s impatience hysterical, but he’s not a monster.

He takes a deep breath. 

“Well, uh,” Bucky begins, a nervous hand running along the back of his neck. “That is Steve and I - I mean, we’re not _together,_ together or anything but some things happened last night, and it turns out he doesn’t want just one date.”

Becca smacks his arm as she laughs. Bucky winces and pulls away, rubbing at his skin and glaring at his sister even as a smile threatens to break across his face. 

“Well, of _course_ he doesn’t want just one date,” Becca exclaims. “Bucky, honestly, you’re too hard on yourself. I told you, you’re a catch. Steve clearly thinks so, and I’m really glad that you guys figured some things out. You deserve to have some fun with a guy you like as much as you like Steve, big brother. Heck, maybe you’ll even fall in love. That’d be really nice.”

Bucky can’t help agreeing with that sentiment.

* * *

 

Bucky invites Wanda, Becca and Steve over for dinner that night to celebrate. He grills steaks and vegetables, and the four of them sit in Bucky’s backyard under white string lights, drinking and laughing for hours. 

Steve congratulates the newly engaged couple, and flushes when Becca insists that he needs to come to the wedding. 

“I have it on good authority that you’ll have a date,” Becca winks, and Steve just laughs. Because even though it’s probably way too early to talk about the two of them attending a wedding together, the way Bucky’s looking at Steve suggests that he agrees with his sister. 

Wanda and Becca turn in fairly early, taking Bucky’s guest room since they’d both been drinking. Steve and Bucky stay outside a little longer, enjoying the cool night air. 

“Your sister’s sweet,” Steve grins. “But you don’t have to take me to that wedding. Hell, who knows what could happen by then?”

Bucky stretches his arms skyward, a breath whooshing out of him as his back arches. He turns to Steve, smiling.

“I mean, I think I have a pretty good idea of what could happen,” Bucky says, reaching for Steve’s hand and threading their fingers together. “At least, I know what I hope will happen.”

Steve’s answering laugh is just a huff of breath as his gaze meets Bucky’s. Those stormy eyes are warm and open and gentle, and Steve hopes like hell that he gets to keep those eyes in his life for as long as possible.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Yeah, me too.”

* * *

 

“Bucky told you first, didn’t he?” Becca asks as she and Wanda lie in bed that evening. 

Wanda shrugs a shoulder, an apologetic grin on her face. “I’m sure he’d have told you first, but I could just _tell_ something had happened. He had this dopey look on his face and he just seemed so relaxed. It sort of just tumbled out of him when I asked.”

Becca chuckles, nuzzling her nose against Wanda’s.

“I’m not mad about it,” she says. “Honestly, I think it’s great that he trusts you as much as he does me. And I think it’s doubly sweet that you know him well enough now to have noticed something like that.”

Wanda’s smile softens as she leans toward Becca, letting her lips tease Becca’s. “Your family’s my family, darling.” 

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, love,” Becca sighs before capturing Wanda’s lips in a kiss.

* * *

 

Steve is curled against Bucky’s side, snoring softly as they lie Bucky’s bed. They’d done nothing more than trade languid kisses for a while before Steve drifted off, and Bucky still feels like he’s floating. Bucky could live on Steve’s kisses, on the soft press of the other man’s lips against his own. 

Bucky considers the possibilities for the two of them. 

The first is simple: It doesn’t work, and they go their separate ways. Just the thought of it is enough to start up an ache in Bucky’s chest.

The second is more complex: It _does_ work. Their affection for each other is easy, but their situation is less so. They live on opposite sides of a large country. Bucky has a job that he enjoys. He has a life out here. And yes, he’s always wanted to try living somewhere other than LA, but it’s always been sort of a distant dream. Still, he knows instinctively that if this is going to work long term, long distance won’t be an option forever. Eventually, he’ll need to pick up stakes and move to New York. 

At least, that’s what he assumes. He supposes it’s not impossible that Steve might decide to retire from this superhero business, move out to sunny California and open a wildly popular gym or something. But given Steve’s commitment to making the world a better place, he doubts that’ll happen. 

Bucky wonders what his choice will be when push comes to shove. 

As Steve shifts closer to Bucky and tightens the arms around him, Bucky decides that he can worry about that some other time. Right now, there’s a beautiful man who wants to be in his bed. Best not to ruin that with far-off what-ifs.

* * *

 

Steve’s hoping to win at least one more game of _Jeopardy_ , since the rest of his team had flown out to see him compete again. Hell, even _Fury_ is sitting out in the audience, his leather trench and eyepatch so out of place in the crowd that it’s almost comical. 

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky whispers during his usual checks before taping starts. “Is that your _boss?”_

Steve nods, grinning. “Yeah, that’s Nick. He’s somethin’, huh?”

“Terrifying,” Bucky chuckles, fingers grazing Steve’s lightly before he pulls away. “The word you’re looking for is terrifying, Rogers. Good luck today.”

Steve does win the first match, increasing his total winnings to $325,000. 

The second match, though, is another matter entirely courtesy of one Darcy Lewis. 

Darcy, Steve learns, is a research assistant who travels extensively for work. The brunette is sharp as a tack and a sight faster than Steve in terms of her reaction time. She absolutely decimates him and Cheryl, a homemaker from Omaha, Nebraska in the first round.

And while Steve narrows the gap in the Double Jeopardy round, Darcy is so far ahead of him that even if he bets every dollar he currently has, he won’t be able to come back. 

It’s a genuine struggle for Steve not to smile about this turn of events, but he manages it. He figures it’d look mighty strange if he seemed excited about losing today. 

Steve bets everything in Final Jeopardy and finishes dead last. He's not unhappy to walk away with the $1,000 consolation prize for third place, while Cheryl takes home the $2,000 for second. The young mother had spoken of three young children at home in glowing tones, and he figures the extra cash will help her do something nice for them.

Besides, there’s no amount of money that could ever match the way Bucky smiles at him as he makes his way over to escort Steve back to his green room.

* * *

 

As soon as Bucky’s closed the door and is sure that they’re away from prying eyes, he pulls Steve into a fierce kiss. 

“I’m really sorry you lost,” Bucky gasps between kisses. “But I’m also really fucking glad that I can actually take you out on a real date now.”

Steve laughs as Bucky’s hands slide up his sides, tickling him. 

“Quit bein’ so damn handsy and tell me about this date, Barnes,” Steve teases, pushing half-heartedly at Bucky’s chest. 

“Shut up and let me kiss you,” Bucky grins, and then their mouths are fused together, warm and wet and so good Bucky can’t think straight. They’re both so wrapped up in each other that they don’t even hear the door open. 

However, they _do_ hear whoops and claps and a loud whistle that Bucky assumes has to be Tony. When they break apart, the other Avengers are standing there with knowing smiles and smirks on their faces. Fury’s expression is completely unreadable, but Bucky’s pretty sure he sees the man’s lips twitch.

He’s seen Steve blush a fair amount over the last couple of weeks, but Bucky now knows _exactly_ how red the blond can get as he tries to shush his teammates. It’s absolutely adorable.

“I’ll, uh, let you guys have some time,” Bucky chuckles, disentangling himself from Steve’s arms as quickly as he can. “I gotta get back to work anyway. I’ll talk to you later, Steve?”

“You will,” Steve nods, tugging Bucky back for one last quick kiss. Bucky leaves the room and walks back to the studio feeling lighter than air.

* * *

 

When Bucky exits the building several hours later, he sees Steve standing by his bike, leaning against a nearby wall. 

“Hey, soldier,” Bucky grins, the smile never fading from his face as their lips meet. 

“Hey yourself,” Steve breathes as they break for air. “How was the rest of your day?”

“Went well enough,” Bucky replies. “Darcy ended up winning the rest of the matches. Kid’s good. I mean, I was a _little_ biased toward our previous champion, but she’s a lot of fun to watch too.”

Steve chuckles, reaching out to cup Bucky’s cheek in his hand. “Biased, huh? I wonder why.”

Bucky shrugs. His cheeks are starting to hurt, he’s smiling so hard. 

“So, what brings you back to the studio, Captain?” Bucky asks, grabbing the extra helmet he keeps with him and tossing it to Steve. Because Bucky knows exactly why Steve’s here.

“Well, a certain _Jeopardy_ producer promised me a date once I was no longer a contestant,” Steve replies. “And I’ve come to collect.”

Bucky laughs as he walks back toward Steve, invading the other man’s space. He likes the way Steve’s breath hitches. 

“Is that right?” Bucky asks, so close that his lips brush against Steve’s. He feels the blond shudder, and he wants nothing more than to pin him against the brick wall behind them and ravish him. But they’ve got plenty of time for that later.

“That’s right,” Steve rasps, drawing Bucky from his thoughts. 

“Well, then,” Bucky grins before turning and straddling his bike. “Guess we better get going, then.” 

Steve’s smile is even brighter than the setting sun as he nods and then climbs onto the bike, gripping Bucky tight as the motorcycle growls to life.

There are a lot of ways this thing between them could go wrong, Bucky thinks as they tear out of the parking lot. 

But with Steve’s arms wrapped around him and his reassuring weight against Bucky’s back, he’s got a good feeling things are going to go right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! I have a feeling that this probably won't be the last you see of these iterations of Steve and Bucky ;)
> 
> Come hang out with me on [ tumblr ](http://emphasisonem.tumblr.com) if you feel like it!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come hang out with me on [tumblr dot com](http://emphasisonem.tumblr.com/) if you want!


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